Without You
by HopelessRomantic984
Summary: Taking place in the future, Jude is 23 and Tommy is 30. Married for four years, Jude and Tommy are anything but happy. In fact, they aren't even living in the same country. Will they be able to find a way back to each other or is divorce inevitable?
1. Prologue

**Without You**

Prologue

As she absently moved her left hand forward, reaching for some papers on the corner of her desk, her eyes were suddenly drawn to the sunlight reflecting boldly off the ring sitting comfortably on her ring finger. The ring was taunting her, beckoning her to think about a man who was still technically her husband. The urge to think of him was especially strong on a day like today, a day that should have meant something.

Today was their fourth anniversary. She felt the sadness wash through her as she took in each scratch and nick that covered the surface of her ring. It didn't feel like a special day. It felt like all the rest: lonely and empty. But, then again, that was how she like her life now. Tommy was still her husband on paper. But it had been a long time since their relationship had been anything more than that.

She hadn't even seen him for two years. Every day she expected divorce papers in the mail. Everyday she expected him to finally want to end their legal connection. But the papers never came. She had pondered sending some herself. She had even had the official document drawn up by her lawyer, but for some reason she had never sent it. It was silly. Stupid, really.

One day, maybe soon, she'd finally do it.

"Jude?" Her head shot up as she heard her voice being called from the door of her office.

"Hi Mike. What's up?" She asked the blonde-haired man who was smiling at her as he leaned on the doorframe.

"John Griggs is here to see you. Said you two had a song to finish."

"Right, thanks," she said, glancing back down at her ring as Mike disappear from the doorway.

Every time someone mentioned working on a song, a chill ran down her back. It used to be her singing the songs. But since her move to LA two years ago she was now focused on writing the songs for others to sing. She didn't even use her real name to claim the work she'd been doing. She'd taken on the pseudonym Noelle Harris to throw anyone off from finding out where she was. She enjoyed the anonymity Los Angeles provided her. There was always someone more famous or important and she was rarely noticed by any one. And her job as a professional songwriter allowed her to slink into the shadows where no one really knew her or cared that she was there.

She felt the jagged pain rip through her heart, like it did every time she thought of the past and all the hope it had held. That was over now. She needed to forget about it.

Taking on a role as a songwriter was better for her now. She wasn't the star anymore. She was a nobody. And that's exactly what she wanted to be.

She just wanted to be left alone.


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One:

Jude kicked the door closed behind her, satisfied to finally shut the world out and end the day alone in her apartment. Why had she allowed the day to affect her so badly? It was just another day. She kept telling herself over and over again that this anniversary didn't matter. Considering the state of their 'marriage', their anniversary certainly didn't signify anything. She had been alone for a long time; she knew she should be used to the encroaching sadness by now. But no matter what she told herself, she couldn't help but feel even lonelier than usual today.

She walked to the kitchen, exploring her bare cupboards for something to eat. Not that she was the slightest bit hungry, but she hadn't eaten anything all day and the last thing she wanted was to end up in the hospital. Being rushed to the hospital would lead to a conversation about why she didn't have a next of kin listed on the health information she had filled out for her job in LA. The truth was she didn't have any family anymore. Her parents and Sadie, Kwest, SME, Mason and even Jamie were a part of her past. She had deliberately ensured that none of them would know where she was when she'd run from Toronto two years ago. She knew that they had tried to help her. Her thoughts helplessly drifted back to the exact day, after barely a year of being married to Tommy, when everything changed, when what she found out altered every plan she had made about her future with Tommy. She could still feel the excruciating pain, the heartbreak. She brushed away the tears that fell unheeded down her cheeks.

She couldn't think about that now. She just had to forget about it, about all of it and everyone. She couldn't blame them. They had tried to talk to her, rip her out of the depression and sadness that ensued but she had purposely continued to push them away. She had seen the sympathy in their eyes but they couldn't really understand what she was going through. Only one person could. And he had no interest in sharing any of it with her.

She roughly grabbed a half-eaten box of crackers, taking a few out of the box and sticking one in her mouth. She couldn't taste it but at least it would be something for her stomach to digest. After absently chewing and swallowing three, she stuffed the box back in the cupboard and shut the door.

As she shut the door, she caught a glimpse of that damn ring again. She lifted her hand closer to her face, staring at the offending object. She wondered why she even bothered wearing it or her engagement ring still. It was silly; they had become fixed, never coming off. But that didn't mean that they really represented anything. She raised her right hand, her fingers wrapping around the two rings, beginning to slide them off. But she stopped short of removing them. She shoved the rings roughly back on, not wanting to analyze her motives or reasoning for being unable to take them off.

Watching her rings settle back into their place at the base of her finger brought memories of her wedding day rushing back to her mind. She still vividly remembered Tommy, handsome as she had ever seen him, standing at the front of the church waiting for her nervously. She remembered reaching for his hands and noticing that, like her own, his hands were shaking. And although he was just as scared as she was, he had squeezed her hands and nodded reassuringly, shooting her one of his characteristic smirks. And within minutes, they were joined together in a union that was supposed to be unbreakable, a union that was supposed to last forever.

Jude roughly pulled herself out of the onslaught of memories.

That day, a time when she and Tommy had shared more than just his last name, was long gone. That dream was dead. And so was a part of her.

Even though it was only 8:30 pm, Jude rushed off towards the shower. And after quickly washing herself, she settled into bed. And by 9:00, she was tossing and turning, praying she could sleep the rest of that awful day away.

* * *

Meanwhile by 9:00 in a Toronto bar favored by druggies and people resembling the scum of the earth, Tommy Quincy was drunk. Not that this was really a surprise. Being drunk was a logical culmination of drinking almost all day. Lately Tommy had been drinking so much it was surprising that he was ever sober.

As Kwest pushed himself through the crowded bar, where he knew his friend would be stationed, he shook his head disbelievingly. How had things gotten this bad? What amazed Kwest the most was that he knew Tom was not an alcoholic. He could go months without a drink and he wouldn't even care or crave it. But times like this, when something set Tommy off and he was going through a particularly rough patch, he'd disappear inside a bottle and it would seem like he was never going to come out.

Kwest spotted Tommy sitting at the bar, downing another shot of something. Something strong and pungent, no doubt. Kwest sat himself down on the stool next to Tommy, silently praying that Tommy wouldn't be violent tonight. The last time he'd tried to escort him out of one of these sleazy places, Tommy had erupted into ruthless jeers, directed both at Kwest and the other patrons, and he had nearly caused an explosion of fighting.

"Tom," Kwest said loudly, trying to get his friend's attention.

Tommy spun his head towards the voice he heard, although his double vision made it difficult to discern who had called his name.

"Tom," Kwest repeated, "it's time to get out of here."

"What do you mean?" Tommy said belligerently, taking a sip from the newly poured glass placed in front of him, "I'm just getting started."

Kwest rolled his eyes, knowing Tommy wouldn't catch the gesture. "Actually, I think you're done. Come on, I'll drive you home."

"I said I'm not going!" Tommy yelled, placing the glass roughly back on the bar.

"Fine. We'll just sit here until you're ready to go. You're liable to fall over any minute anyway," Kwest commented, noticing the strong smell coming from Tommy's breath and his bleary eyes.

"Just go, leave me alone!" Tommy yelled, attempting to push Kwest, although his poor balance prevented him from doing anything more than bat the air. Kwest sat still, ignoring Tommy's volatile statements and bodily attempts to remove him.

"Go!!" Tommy yelled, even more loudly, clearly frustrated by his inability to force Kwest to leave.

"I'm not going to just leave you here. So, we'll leave now together or later together. Your choice."

"J-just go Kwest. Just w-w-walk out the door," Tommy stammered, pushing himself off the bar. He attempted to point towards the exit, and Kwest could barely contain a laugh when he pointed the bathrooms instead. Tommy's wobbly legs attempted to walk, and Kwest caught him before fell flat on his face. He lifted Tommy's arm over his own shoulders and began to slowly walk Tommy towards the exit. Luckily Tommy didn't protest. He was focusing on trying to collect his thoughts enough to say something.

"Why don't you just leave Kwest? S-sh-she did. And apparently she had no problem doing it."

Jude. Of, course, Kwest thought. How could he not have realized that today would be awful for Tommy? It was their anniversary.

"I fucked up, man," Tommy rambled, surprisingly coherent for someone who had likely consumed more than two person's daily share of alcohol. "D-d-dealing with what happened with Ch-Ch-Chloe….but Ju-Jude fucked up too. She's be-been gone t-two years, man…"

Kwest felt a shiver run down his back at Tommy's mention of Chloe. At Tommy's request no one dared utter that name in his presence. Everyone assumed, rightly, that what had happened with Chloe was the first major step in the breakdown of Tommy and Jude's marriage. It was only in his extreme drunken states that Tommy mentioned Chloe, or Jude, himself.

Tommy was silent for a few minutes, for which Kwest was grateful. He took the opportunity to pile Tommy into his car as gently as he could. As he jumped into the driver's seat, he realized that Tommy was talking again.

"Wh-where is she, man?" Tommy asked, looking to Kwest as if he thought Kwest really had the answer.

"I wish I knew," Kwest said, watching with sadness as Tommy stared out the window as if he was looking for Jude. Like she'd magically appear out of nowhere. He sighed loudly, wishing he could fix everything for his closest friend. But the truth was that things had gotten so bad, he didn't know where he'd even start.


	3. Chapter Two

A/N: The excerpt of the song is from Within Temptation's "Frozen", which I do not own. I also don't own any IS.

Chapter Two:

Jude sat behind her sprawling cherry wood desk twirling her pen between her fingers, staring down at the half-written song she was working on.

She was blocked. She literally couldn't think of another word to write. She knew that likely had something to do with the two hours of sleep she'd been able to manage last night.

Damn Tommy Quincy. Even miles apart and after two long years, she couldn't stop her thoughts from focusing on him. And the hurt he'd caused her.

She murmured the lyrics quietly to herself, trying to sound out the next possible phrase.

_I can't feel my senses  
I just feel the cold  
All colours seem to fade away  
I can't reach my soul_

_I would stop running  
If I knew there was a chance  
It tears me apart to sacrifice it all  
But I'm forced to let go_

Writing the words she'd managed to get out was like ripping out a part of her soul. They were dark and dismal, just like she was feeling most of the time these days. Hearing the words spoken out loud didn't bring about any miraculous inspiration. She knew she should sing them; she was certain that singing the words would help her to sort out where to take the song next. It was a technique she used to use all the time in Toronto. But she wouldn't do it, not now. Singing was something she simply didn't do anymore. If she caught herself singing in the shower or in the car, she immediately forced herself to stop. Singing, like her family and friends, was a part of the past. A part of her life that was finished.

She repeated the depressing lyrics out loud again, but this time she was interrupted mid-way.

"You know, Jude, a song is meant to be sung, not spoken," Mike said, making his way casually into Jude's office and plopping himself into the chair across from where she was working. "Although, there are those odd, spoken word songs. So, I guess I stand corrected," he said, attempting a joke.

Jude glanced up from her page, barely acknowledging his presence. "Please don't call me that. Whoever that person was, I'm not her anymore. And people are getting suspicious. I don't think they buy it when I tell them that 'Jude' is just your nickname for me."

"Jude—" Mike started, but immediately stopped speaking after being confronted with one of Jude's death glares. "Okay, no-name, last time I checked Jude was your name, you secret former Canadian Instant Star."

Jude continued glaring at him, displeased with his mention of her past. A past no one else was even aware of. "I do have a name. Noelle Harris. That is the name that gets credited in the album liners," she commented, returning her attention to the lyrics on her desk.

Mike rested his elbows on her desk, leaning in to talk to her more confidentially. "I don't know what or who you're running from JQ, but wouldn't it be better just to face it?" Mike asked, receiving another scowl from Jude at the use of his other nickname for her – JQ. She definitely wasn't Jude Quincy; that she knew for sure. Jude felt slightly bad for getting angry with Mike. Regardless of how he was pushing her buttons, she could tell he was really trying to help.

When Jude had arrived two years ago at BlackStar Records, answering a newspaper AD looking for a professional songwriter, Mike was the only one who had recognized her or taken any interest in her personally at all. Mike was an expatriate, having only moved to L.A. from Ottawa, Ontario about six months before Jude arrived in the city. He was well aware of who she was and what she had accomplished in Canada. On their first meeting when Mike mentioned it, Jude asked him, as politely as she could, not to tell anyone and never to mention her past again. Mike never could understand her attitude towards her past. Working in the main administrative office, Mike had watched in confusion and disbelief when Jude played "Skin" for the record executives on the hiring committee and claimed that she was not the one singing, that the original artist was, in fact, deceased. She claimed full credit for the lyrics but pretended the voice did not belong to her. In fact, she told the record executives that she couldn't sing at all, which made Mike's jaw drop in shock. He knew very well that she had a voice that was completely unrivaled by any one else. It didn't matter because the execs were so impressed with the lyrics of her songs that they hired her, regardless of her claims of having a poor voice.

Jude had made it clear to Mike, after their initial conversation, that she wasn't interested in friends. She just wanted to do her job and go home. But Mike was relentless, always showing up at her office, which was on a completely different floor from his own, and always being really sickeningly nice to her. And whether Jude wanted it or not, they had settled into a comfortable kind of friendship. One where Mike did most of the talking, but a friendship nonetheless. Even after two years of working together, however, Mike had never been able to pry out of Jude why she was hiding her identity or why she had abandoned a career in Toronto that seemed destined for international success.

Jude dropped the lyrics back on her desk. "Let it go, will you?" Jude asserted, "That's all behind me. I'm living a different life now."

"Alright," Mike conceded after another failed attempt at finding out the truth behind Jude. "Well," he said, standing up, "I should get back to my wonderfully exciting marketing job upstairs. I'll see you later, JQ."

Before Jude could aim another glare in his direction, Mike had disappeared from her office. She sighed in frustration. Why did she have to get a job at the one place in LA where someone knew who she was? When she'd left Toronto, she had still not managed to make headway in America. That's one reason she knew she could come here and leave her past behind her. But Mike just kept throwing it back in her face, reminding her of her Instant Star fame and all that went with it.

She knew she shouldn't blame him. She would have been reminded of her past without his constant questions. But his inquiries certainly didn't help her move on.

She tossed her pen down on her desk, resigned that she wasn't going to make much progress on the song today.

She turned her chair to look out her window at the bustling street below. She just wanted to lose herself among them. Where no one cared about her past. This time of the year was so difficult for her. Not only did she have to think about her wedding anniversary, but there was another anniversary that was imprinted in her head.

June 16. The day her perfect life with Tommy had come crashing to her feet. It had been almost exactly one year after that particular day that Jude had fled Toronto.

No, this time of the year definitely did not hold positive memories for her.

Suddenly plagued with thoughts of the night she'd boarded the plane to LA and never looked back, she couldn't help but be pulled into the memory of the last conversation she had with Tommy. The last raging fight, she corrected herself mentally.

Tommy hadn't been home for three nights – he had disappeared a lot right before she'd left. She knew people dealt with things differently but the way he was coping with his sadness was killing her. She didn't want to be alone in her suffering – and that's exactly what she was.

Finally, about 3:30 am Tommy had fallen in the door of their house, the stench of alcohol coming off of him in waves. She'd been waiting up for him; the truth is that she'd hardly slept at all when he had disappeared like this. She had met him at the door, swinging his arm around her shoulders and trying to help him upstairs to the bedroom. He was confrontational, pushing her away and trying to make his way upstairs himself. She pulled back, following him up the stairs. After falling a few times, he finally made it into their bedroom, collapsing on the bed.

Thinking he had passed out, she began to undress him. He caught her completely off guard when he grabbed her hand and shoved her roughly away.

"Don't touch me," he had slurred.

To say that she was surprised by his coarseness was an understatement. Tommy had never been violent with her, even the few months prior to her leaving, when he'd barely even spoken to her. She had reached out to him more than once, knowing that if she could just hold onto him maybe the pain would lessen. But he'd pushed away every olive branch she'd extended.

She didn't know what to do. She'd turned around, beginning to leave the room, when she'd heard him beginning to mumble again. "Your f-f-ault…" he had stuttered through his inebriated state.

She stopped in her tracks and spun around. "Excuse me?" she had asked, unable to believe that he'd just blamed her.

He sat up and through the hazy light that the bedside lamp provided, Jude could see his cold eyes staring at her intently. "It was your fault!" he yelled.

She had never felt anything so crushing. She felt like the wind had been physically knocked out of her. He could have physically punched her and it wouldn't have hurt more than that one phrase.

"Tommy, you don't mean that…" she insisted, turning around again before he could say anything else.

"You… you worked.. t-t-oo hard. It was t-t-oo much… She'd be h-h-here… It was your fault…"

Jude felt the tears pouring out of her eyes. "Tommy, she was… she was stillborn. There was nothing anyone could have done to prevent it…" Jude had felt herself becoming more frantic, processing the words her husband had thrown at her.

He had begun to waver, and finally he lay back down on the bed, still mumbling the hateful, accusatory words. It was another minute before she was sure he was sleeping.

She had remained frozen in the doorway, staring at his sleeping form. That was the longest conversation they'd had in months. And all he could say was that he blamed her for the death of their daughter. Their amazing unborn daughter. The little girl who, before she had even been in the womb for 4 months had a nursery and toys waiting for her. And after eight months of carrying their child, it was discovered that there was no heartbeat. That there would be no little girl to hold or cuddle with. She was dead, taking a piece of both of her parents with her.

Jude had been paralyzed, unable to comprehend that all the months she had been mourning her baby girl, Tommy had been stewing in his anger, believing that it was her fault. That she wouldn't have done everything she could to save that little girl, including give her very own life.

It was that moment that she had realized that this couldn't go on any longer. She couldn't live with Tommy anymore. If he really thought that about her, that she was to blame, then there was no marriage left to salvage. She'd run to the closet, gathering a few things including her passport and called a cab to get a ride to the airport.

Before walking out of their bedroom, she'd stood over Tommy's sleeping frame, watching the man she still loved breathe deeply in and out. Memories of their happy times were a distant memory, overshadowed by the tragedy of their daughter's death and the spiteful words he'd just spoken. She'd never be able to erase the image of Tommy's cold, dead eyes or the hatred he'd shown when he'd drunkenly yelled at her.

Wanting to touch him once more, she'd brushed a stray hair off his forehead, leaning down to kiss his temple before walking out the door and out of his life. She had never told anyone what he'd said or what had happened that night. She'd just boarded a plane and disappeared from Toronto and all of the people she had loved there.

Jude was jolted out of the painful memory by a loud bang down the hallway. She wiped the tears that had escaped her eyes.

She couldn't do this anymore. It hurt too much to think of him, of what had transpired between the two of them. She contemplated whether she should just end it. Not that she was looking for anyone new, but maybe it was time to really let him go. Once and for all. When she got home that night she'd have to find those divorce papers and see if she really had the courage to ask hers and Tommy's lawyer to start the proceedings.

* * *

Tommy tripped through the entrance of G-Major, staggering towards Studio A where he was supposed to be almost three hours ago. He'd woken up with a massive hangover and decided the best way to cure it was by drinking more. A lot more. Until he was officially drunk again.

Kwest slipped off his headphones as he saw Tommy out of the corner of his eye. There was only so much he could take. His best friend was losing control – that much was evident.

Kwest pressed the microphone button to tell Mason, who was strumming his guitar in the recording booth, to take a break. Mason was close to wrapping up his third country album. That was if Tommy Quincy would get his ass in gear and actually do his job. As it was Kwest did most of Tommy's producing these days. Kwest and Darius had many discussions about Tommy's horrible work habits these days. When he was drinking, he usually just didn't show up for work. Even when he wasn't drunk, he wasn't exactly productive. But he held onto his job, covered for by Darius and Kwest, both of whom felt protective of Tommy, especially after what he'd been through with losing Chloe and then Jude. He was a certifiable mess, but with good reason.

Tommy collapsed into his usual chair, leaning his head down against the soundboard.

"How much have you had this morning?" Kwest asked bluntly. He had learned a long time ago that beating around the bush was pointless. He had been friends with Quincy for far too long to start being subtle now.

"Kwest…" Tommy said, lifting his head slightly, "Shut. Up." Kwest had to hold back a chuckle as he saw the indentations on Tommy's forehead from the buttons on the soundboard. He had to remind himself that this wasn't funny. Tommy was in serious trouble.

"No. Tommy. This is ridiculous. You're killing yourself here."

"So what? What if I am?"

"Then you're stupider than I even thought," Kwest said, getting fed up with Tommy and his lack of motivation to do anything, including live.

"You know what…" Tommy said, standing on his wobbly legs, "Fuck this. I'm out of here," he muttered, stumbling out of the studio. Kwest rolled his eyes at yet another stellar Tommy Quincy moment. He was so unprofessional and easily set off these days. If Kwest didn't love him like a brother he might have lost his resolve to deal with him a long time ago.

Kwest glanced at his watch. Tommy had been in the studio for 3 minutes. That was officially his shortest workday yet.

Mason strolled in from the recording booth, shooting Kwest a questioning look. "Did I just see the phantom of Tommy Quincy? I swear to God I he was here."

"That was him, in the flesh. Although I think he's more booze than flesh these days," Kwest said, sighing loudly.

"Well, yesterday was—"

"Their anniversary, I know." Kwest cut him off, beginning to rant. "It's just. This whole thing sucks. They were so happy, you know? After all the crap they put each other through, they'd finally gotten things together. They were married and more _together_ than I had ever seen them. Then, bang - they lose Chloe. And everything just seemed to crumble beneath them. And when it didn't seem like things could get worse, Jude just disappeared without a word." A thought hit him and he looked up from the soundboard towards Mason. "Have you ever heard from her?"

Mason's face instantly saddened, thinking of the best friend that had faded from his life. "Nope. Not a word."

"Neither have we. Sadie says she doesn't know if we ever will, but in her heart I know she thinks that one day Jude will come walking through the front door. Especially now that Sadie's pregnant. She wants to share it with her sister. But you know what? I don't think Jude's coming back. Not willingly, anyway."

Mason raised his eyebrows at Kwest's last statement. "What do you mean?"

Kwest turned, looking into the empty recording studio, his mind filling with memories of Jude recording there. "I mean, I think it's time we found Jude Quincy whether she wants to be found or not."


	4. Chapter Three

Hi! Thank you all for your amazing response! Glad you're enjoying this so far.

A big thank you to my wonderful beta gwynwhyver - you rock!! 

Here is the latest chapter - I hope you all enjoy!! Please let me know what you think...

* * *

Chapter Three:

Tommy slammed the front door behind him, regretting the act almost immediately as the loud bang pounded in his head, making him feel like his eardrums were being punctured. When would he remember not to slam things when he was hung over, he mused as he collapsed on his living room couch.

Of course, he was on his way to being drunk again. It would take only about five more beers or a few more shots of vodka before he crossed the line into complete drunkenness. He'd get there soon, he had no doubt. It was only 11:30 in the morning, after all, but he'd already drunk himself half-way into oblivion.

As he sat idly on the living room couch, his eyes gazed around the house remembering exactly why it was that he drank to excess. This house was a reminder of all that had been right and all that went horribly wrong. He wasn't even sure why he lived here anymore. This was the house he and Jude were supposed to share their future in, the house that their little girl was supposed to grow up in. It had been almost three years since that awful day and he still had boxes of baby stuff in the room that was supposed to be the nursery. He figured he'd give it to Sadie and Kwest if they wanted it for their baby. It was time he got rid of it, after all.

He stumbled off the couch, making his way clumsily up the stairs towards his bedroom and collapsed onto the bed. Lying in the middle of the bed, he pulled the covers over his head, willing the day to end.

The room still smelled of her. How that could be possible after two years, he didn't know. It was his very own personal torture. Memories of her were everywhere in the house, but every time he entered their bedroom, the pain was especially bad. This was the room where they had made love countless times and fought and made up too many times to count. It was the room where their daughter had been conceived. And it was the last place he remembered seeing her.

That last memory was vague. He had taken to leaving for days at a time, needing to get away from the deafening silence that existed in their house and the desire to take his frustration out on Jude. He got angrier and angrier when he watched Jude day after day, waiting for her to breakdown, to crack, to show him something of how she felt. But she never had. He hadn't even seen her cry, except for the day in the hospital when the doctor told them that their daughter wouldn't be born alive. He remembered that day like it was yesterday, how she had grabbed his shirt, how she'd pulled him towards her as she sobbed into his shoulder. But every day of the year following that day, he hadn't seen one tear escape from her eyes. And he had not known what to make of that. But he had felt the bitterness rise up in him.

He remembered being drunk yet again that night. He had come home and fought with her. All they had done since their daughter's death was a toxic mixture of fighting or not talking at all. Jude had been so withdrawn, while he just wanted to scream at everything and everyone. All the times he raged, he remembered Jude just sitting still, ignoring him, or at least trying to. He wanted to fight. He wanted to scream at someone for what had happened to them. And as wrong as Tommy knew it had been, the person he usually yelled at was Jude.

Waking up the morning after she'd left and finding her gone was a complete shock to his system. Unsure what to do, he decided to give her some space. He had assumed wrongly that she just needed some time. So he had waited for her to come back. He hadn't even thought to track her, expecting her to come home in a few days. But when days became weeks, and weeks turned into months and she still hadn't called or come home he became worried. What if she was more upset than he had discerned?

He began to imagine all the horrible things that could have happened to her, or that she could have inflicted upon herself. Until one day when he got a call from his lawyer; a simple, business-like call where the man at the other end told him that his wife was perfectly fine. And that whenever Tommy was ready to file divorce papers this man could act as the intermediary between the two parties.

He remembered how distinctly surprised and horrified he was. Divorce? When had that become the only option? He had demanded to know where she was, screaming that she was his wife, offering up threats when all else failed. Not responding to his threats, the attorney calmly stated he had a professional obligation to keep Ms. Harrison's location a secret because she had requested that it remain confidential from everyone, especially from her husband. After Tommy had not so politely corrected the lawyer that her name was "Mrs. Quincy," he'd heard the lawyer not so politely hang up.

Then everything began to sink in.

For the first time, he had known that things were really seriously wrong between them. Jude didn't intend on coming back or even seeing him again.

But, he wondered, if she wanted a divorce, why didn't she just file the damn papers herself?

Every month, and then every year, that had passed since then he had become more aware that this was likely a permanent arrangement. His drinking had gotten worse, magnified by the emptiness and devastation he felt after losing two of the only people he ever really cared about.

Even now, almost two years later, he still thought of her everyday whether he wanted to or not. He couldn't help wondering if she had moved on. Even though they were technically still married, he contemplated bitterly whether she had disregarded their vows and found someone else. His blood boiled at the thought of some other man touching his wife's body.

He had almost 'cheated' a few times, just to try and escape the pain. But every time he even came close to kissing someone else, the ring he still wore on his finger would catch his eye and a vision of Jude on their wedding day would fill his mind. And he could never go through with betraying her.

Tommy's eyes shot open and he sat up in bed. He wondered why all these thoughts of Jude were still occupying his head. As he pushed himself out of bed he reflected that he clearly hadn't had enough to drink. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey from one of the drawers in the dresser and took a large gulp straight from the bottle. It was repulsive stuff but it immediately started to do the trick. It was the only way he could cope, the only way he could even begin to forget about Jude or Chloe or the life he was supposed to be living, had his life not fallen apart at the seams.

* * *

Jude snuck out of work early, partially because she was exhausted and wanted to go home and rest, and also because she was avoiding Mike. He stopped by her office again later in the day, this time promising to drag her to some bar for drinks after work. He claimed she needed to 'loosen up'. Jude had protested but Mike threatened that he wasn't taking "no" for an answer. So Jude did the only thing she knew how these days – she took the coward's way out and left work early. She had to admit she really did like Mike. And at another time in her life, they would have been friends. But she'd told him many times, and she meant it, she wasn't looking for friends.

When she got home, she immediately changed into sweatpants and a t-shirt, ate a few more crackers out of the half-eaten box to feed her stomach, and relaxed on the couch in front of the TV. If there was one thing the television was good for, it always distracted her for an hour or two from the horror of her own life by showing her the fictional craziness of other people's lives. Watching a complicated show about a bunch of regular people with phenomenal superpowers forced her brain to think about something other than herself for an hour. And there was nothing more welcome than that.

Just as the show was starting, she heard a loud knock on the door. She ignored it, knowing that it must be a mistake. No one even knew where she lived. The person kept knocking loudly, and this time yelled her name through the door.

"Jude, it's Mike. I know you're in there."

Jude glanced towards the door in shock. How had he even found out where she lived?

She walked cautiously towards the door, opening it slowly.

Mike smiled at her, not waiting for an invitation to come inside, and swept past her into the apartment.

"What the hell are you doing?" she yelled, spinning around to face him.

He looked completely unfazed by her anger. "Coming to see you, silly," he said, still smiling at her, as if coming to see her at home was a normal occurrence.

"How did you even know—"

He cut her off. "Well, I might have broken some HR rules to get your address. But we won't say anything, will we?" he asked, pursing his bottom lip in a classic puppy dog look. She almost fell over as she recognized that it was almost the same puppy dog look she used to see on _someone else_ all the time.

Mike noticed her sudden weakness and his expression sobered immediately. "Are you alright?" he asked, reaching a hand out to steady her.

"I'm fine," she said, retreating from his touch and sitting on the edge of the couch.

"If you say so." He glanced at her warily, taking a seat at the opposite end of the couch. "So, what are we watching?"

"_I_ am watching "Heroes." _You_ are leaving," Jude commanded, her gaze not leaving the television.

"Oh come on! I love this show. You wouldn't want to make me miss something on my way home, would you? I promise, if you still want me to leave after it's over, I'll go," Mike pleaded, shooting her another warm smile. This guy just did not give up, did he, she thought to herself.

She glanced at him briefly, and for reasons she didn't want to think about, she agreed. "Fine. But after this, you're out," she said, pointing at the door for emphasis. She peered at him again, not wanting to admit how nice it was to have a friend again, to not have to be alone every second of the day.

And for the first time in a long time, Jude reluctantly enjoyed the friendship of another human being.

* * *

After helping Mason polish off another song, Kwest and Mason walked into Tommy's office. Kwest sat down at the desk and turned on Tommy's computer.

"What are we doing in here?" Mason asked, looking around him, clearly afraid they were going to get caught.

Kwest looked completely unworried, knowing Tommy certainly wasn't going to show up at work again today. And other than Sadie's reception computer, it was the only one he had access to at G-Major. He wasn't ready to let Sadie in on what he and Mason were up to, so Tommy's computer was the only choice left. "We need to pull up the phone numbers of some of the major record labels across the United States and Canada. Maybe a few international ones as well."

"Call me dumb, but how is this going to help us find Jude?" Mason asked, skeptical of how this could possibly help.

Kwest began his search on the computer, sending list after list to the printer. "Look, if I know Jude, she is still somehow connected to the music industry. It's not something someone can just give up. Besides, it's the only thing she's been doing since she was 15. It's not like she has a lot of other marketable skills. We need to call these places, feel them out as to whether they've heard from a Jude Harrison or a Jude Quincy."

He handed Mason half of the large list that had printed. Mason's eyes widened in shock. "This is going to take forever to call all of these."

"Do you want to find Jude?"

"Of course, I do." Mason replied immediately.

"Well, this is our first way to try to find her. I'll take New York and LA. You take London and Vancouver. And we'll see what we can come up with."

Mason nodded, wandering off to begin making his calls.

Kwest made himself more comfortable at Tommy's desk and picked up his phone, praying that their search wouldn't be fruitless. Because if Jude was feeling anywhere near as bad as Tommy, then he knew that these two needed each other, whether they were ready to admit it or not.


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four:

"You've never heard of a 'Jude Harrison' or a 'Jude Quincy' being employed at your label? Okay, well, thanks anyway." Mason slammed his cell phone shut in frustration, banging his head dramatically down on Tommy's desk. Kwest was sitting behind the desk, finishing a dead-end phone call of his own.

Since Tommy had been missing from work for a few days, Mason and Kwest had taken advantage of his absence and set up their "Find Jude" headquarters in his office. In between recording, and for a couple hours after work each day, Mason and Kwest had worked tirelessly on calling all the numbers on their respective lists. Unfortunately, their efforts had not paid off. Even worse, there did not even appear to be a tangible lead in sight. It was as if she had disappeared off the face of the earth.

Kwest sighed loudly as he hung up the phone. He looked down at his list of scratched out phone numbers. He only had fifteen more numbers to call, and he knew Mason must be nearing the end of his list. The scariest thought was that after calling all of these numbers, they were no closer to finding out where Jude had gone. And considering she'd been gone for two years, the trail was cold. Where would they go from here? Kwest sighed deeply, wishing he'd had the sense to look for her sooner.

It was late, and they were both clearly exhausted. Mason slowly lifted his head off the desk. "I'm going to save the rest of my numbers for tomorrow," he said resigned. He stretched as he stood up, then collected his belongings and saluted Kwest as he walked out the door.

Kwest could see the toll the fruitless search was taking on Mason. Before she'd left, Jude had been one of Mason's best friends. He began to wonder if it was fair to Mason to have him involved in this. What if they never found her? He had been so hopeful, and he had sensed Mason's hopes rising too. And now, after over 200 phone calls, they were still firmly planted at square one.

Kwest narrowed his tired eyes on the last fifteen numbers. There was no point waiting, he thought to himself, as he picked up the phone again.

"BlackStar Records," he mused out loud as he looked at the next record label on the list. This was one label he actually had a connection to. A friend of his, a fellow sound engineer, had worked at this label for over five years. It was primarily a rock and roll label where the material sometimes verged on depressing, but it was still worth a phone call. The worst that would happen is that he would catch up with an old friend.

He dialed the number, asking for his old friend Joe Stevens.

* * *

Thousands of miles away, Joe Stevens sat in front of a soundboard, helping to perfect the sound of one of the best up and coming rock bands. He felt someone tap him on the shoulder and turned around with his headphones still on to see the receptionist pointing at the phone on the wall. 

Surprised because he received most of his calls on his cell phone, he removed his headphones, and slid his chair in the direction of the phone.

"Hello?"

"Joe Stevens? This is Kwest Taylor."

"Kwest?!" Joe couldn't have been more surprised if it had been Elvis calling him. He chuckled loudly. "Talk about a blast from the past! How are you doing, man?"

"I'm good, very good. Married and we've got a baby on the way," Kwest said, and smiled just thinking of the family he and Sadie were creating. It made him even more determined to reach Jude, and bring her back where she belonged.

"Congratulations! Wow, it sure has been a long time."

"That it has. As much as I'd like to catch up some more, I have a question I need to ask. Have you ever heard of a Jude Harrison or a Jude Quincy working at BlackStar? She's a singer, but I really doubt she'd be working as one. She writes songs too, so she could be working in any department."

Joe mentally worked through all the people he worked with, and couldn't think of any one with that name. "No, man. Sorry. I've never heard that name before. Was she a friend of yours?"

What an understatement that was. Jude was his friend, his sister-in-law, she was an important person to everyone that he knew. But there was no point getting into all of that with someone he had not spoken to in over five years. "Something like that. Actually, in a roundabout way, she's family. But she's likely not going to want to hear from me or anyone from her past right now. " Kwest sighed at his latest failed phone call. "Anyway, thanks buddy." He was about to end the conversation when a thought hit him. "Hey, would you mind doing me a favour? Could you possibly ask around, check with any of your industry buddies there to see if any of them have heard of her, or know where she might be? I'd really appreciate it."

"Of course, man. Anything I can do. Is this girl in trouble?"

"I really hope not." Kwest gave Joe his contact information before ending the call. As he hung up the phone and began to dial the next number, he mused that it couldn't hurt having someone else on the lookout for Jude too.

* * *

Joe Stevens sat behind the soundboard again, not really paying attention to the song he was supposed to be helping master. Kwest's search had him interested. Instead of continuing to work, he excused himself from the studio to go talk to a few of his friends, managers and producers. If anyone knew of a Jude Harrison or a Jude Quincy, it would be one of them. 

He walked into the lounge to find a few of his friends relaxing over coffee. "Hey guys," Joe said casually, sitting beside them on one of the plush couches.

The men looked up, acknowledging him as he sat beside them. He asked them both about their knowledge of a Jude Harrison, and one of them faintly remembered a competition winner by that name in Canada. But he hadn't heard anything about her in years.

His friends left to go back to work, dismissing the conversations from their minds. But as Joe sat in the lounge, the thought of this missing girl wouldn't leave him. He didn't even know the full story, but he could hear the worry in Kwest's voice as he had asked about her.

"Excuse me," he heard a feminine voice say from behind him. He turned towards the source of the voice and saw a slim, blonde woman with a large coffee in her hand. "Were you asking about Jude Harrison?"

"I was," Joe said, immediately seeing the recognition in this girl's eyes. "Do you know something about her?" he pressed.

The woman sat down beside him, and as she took a long sip from her black coffee, he noticed the fragile, distant look in her eyes.

She was silent for a long time, and Joe really wasn't sure if she was going to respond. "I used to know her," she said suddenly, quietly, nervously pushing a stray hair behind her ear. "Why do you want to know about her?"

Joe remembered Kwest's assertion that whoever Jude was, she would likely not want to know anyone was looking for her, so he gave a vague explanation of his interest in her. "A friend mentioned her name. He said she was a really talented, a singer and a songwriter in Canada. Kind of piqued my professional interest. What can you tell me about her?" Joe sat with bated breath, watching her contemplate her answer. And when she did answer, she told him the one thing he didn't expect to hear.

* * *

Joe frantically tried calling Kwest that night after talking to the young blonde woman, who never did identify herself. He kept getting Kwest's voicemail and left a message begging him to call as soon as he could. 

Early the next morning as Joe was walking into the studio, his cell phone rang in his pocket.

Kwest sat at the soundboard with Mason, both of them waiting impatiently for Joe to pick up. Joe's message had sounded slightly panicked, which had immediately made Kwest extremely nervous.

When Joe finally picked up, Kwest barely gave him a chance to speak. "Joe, man, what's going on?"

"Are you sitting down?" Joe asked, cutting directly to what he wanted to say, neither of them in the mood for small talk.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sitting what's going on?" Kwest shared a worried look with Mason, who's face had blanched with Kwest's assertion that he was sitting down. Mason thought to himself that it was never a good sign when someone asked if you were sitting down.

"I'm afraid I have some bad news."

"What is it?" Kwest asked, needing to know, but also dreading whatever bad news he was about to hear. His mind immediately wrapped around all the possible scenarios. Was she drugged addicted, a criminal or a homeless person? The ideas swirled around in his brain, making him slightly dizzy.

"She's dead." Kwest's jaw dropped in disbelief. That was the one thing he didn't expect to hear.

And as if there wasn't a worse day for Tommy Quincy to show up at work, he strode purposefully through the door of the studio, looking surprisingly sober.

Mason, who hadn't heard the news yet, began talking to Tommy. Kwest turned away, unable to look at his friend as he tried to absorb the news.

Joe began speaking again, and Kwest realized he hadn't responded yet. "Did you hear me, Kwest? I'm so sorry to be the one to tell you."

"She's…" Kwest began, keeping his voice low.

"Dead. I'm afraid so." Joe said, and Kwest could hear the sympathy in his voice. As he heard Joe say that awful word again, he caught a sideways glance at Tommy. This was going to kill him.

He thanked Joe, and as he shut his phone he wondered when the universe had decided to turn against Tommy Quincy.


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five:

Jude woke up immediately feeling the guilt pressing down on her. _Great_, she thought to herself. _Another thing to feel guilty about; that's just what I need_. The moment the word 'dead' had left her mouth she had felt guilty. Telling someone she was dead seemed a little too close to tempting fate for her liking. But the last thing she wanted to deal with was more questions from a stranger who seemed far too interested in Jude Harrison. She figured telling the guy that Jude Harrison was dead was the safest way to get rid of his curiosity. And in all honesty, it wasn't that far from the truth. When she looked in the mirror every morning she didn't see Jude Harrison Quincy. She saw an empty, hollow shell of the person she used to be.

She relegated the thought to the back of her mind as she checked her bedside clock, estimating that she had about an hour before she had to leave for the airport. She had been assigned to work on writing some songs with a rock band in Vancouver and was feeling anxious about the impending trip. She had tried to talk her boss out of it, the thought of returning to Canada not the least bit appealing to her. But her boss would not be moved. "You're the best 'angst' songwriter we have. And these guys need to add some major angst to their lyrics," her boss had told her, unwilling to budge. So, now Jude had to spend two weeks in Vancouver working intensively on making the lyrics this group had already written more depressing. As if she wasn't sad enough.

She knew almost nothing about the band she'd be working with, not that she really cared. Apparently after signing with BlackStar's Vancouver branch, they were going through a name change to add more credibility to their act. She was supposed to ask for their manager John Wilkins once she arrived at the BlackStar office in Vancouver who would fill her in on the rest.

To say she wasn't looking forward to the next few weeks was a complete understatement. Going to Canada again meant risking being recognized by someone. It had been three years since she'd been at the peak of her fame there, but there was always the chance that an old fan would see her. Unfortunately, that would mean taking some extra precautions whenever she had to go anywhere, but especially when on the city's streets.

She forced herself out of the comfort of her bed and into the steaming shower. She silently prayed that the next few weeks would fly by and she'd be back in the anonymity of Los Angeles before too long.

* * *

Kwest couldn't tell him. Since he'd heard the news, he'd watched Tommy carefully, trying to find a good time. Good time? Kwest was pretty sure that didn't exist for the kind of news Kwest had. He hadn't even told Mason yet.

He leaned his elbows on the soundboard, allowing his head to fall into his hands. And the more he thought about Jude being dead, the more it didn't make sense. The shock of the news had clouded his mind, but as clarity returned to him he realized the impossibility of what Joe had told him. If she had really died, wouldn't Jude's lawyer have notified someone, most likely Tommy? A person can't just die without anyone knowing about it. Especially when that person is Jude Harrison. He knew that somehow the news would have leaked back to Canada and caused a media frenzy. It just couldn't be true – it didn't make a bit of sense.

"Are you alright, Kwest?" He heard Tommy's voice, strong and clear beside him. He lifted his head to look at his friend, who actually looked a little better today. At the very least, he didn't seem hung over. Of course, that was part of the cycle that Kwest had seen repeated a million times. One day Tommy would be as drunk as could be, and the day, he'd be stone cold sober.

"I'm okay. Actually, can you handle this? I have a call to make," Kwest said, waiting for Tommy to nod before he stood up and headed towards the empty Studio C, where he knew he could make his phone call in private.

He quickly dialed Joe's number, praying he'd be able to get the answers he needed. Joe picked up after a few rings, answering cheerfully.

Hey, it's Joe. Wha-da-ya know?"

"Hey Joe, it's Kwest."

Joe laughed tightly. "I have to say, I didn't expect to hear from you again after the news you just heard."

"About that. I actually have a few questions. Where did you hear that Jude was _dead_?" He whispered the last word, still unable to believe it.

"A girl who works here told me. She claimed to have known her when she was a rock star in Canada."

"What was her name?" As Kwest had dated Sadie, he had come across a lot of the people Jude knew when she was in Toronto.

"She didn't say her name. I didn't think to ask, I'm sorry, man."

"That's okay. Just out of curiosity, the girl who told you...what did she look like?" Kwest asked, sure that if Jude had known this person in Toronto, then he would likely recognize the description. But as Joe began to describe this woman, Kwest's jaw dropped in shock. He certainly hadn't expected Joe to describe someone who sounded exactly like Jude herself.

"And this woman works for BlackStar in L.A.?" Kwest asked, an anxious feeling filling his chest. He might be close, really close to finding her. Or at the very least, hopefully he would find answers of some kind.

"She does. Or she just likes hanging out in our lounge, drinking our coffee," Joe said, laughing lightly.

"Thanks man for all your help. I'll talk to you later," Kwest said, snapping his phone shut. He swung the door of Studio C open, striding immediately to Jamie's office.

He looked in to see Jamie leaning back in his chair, tapping a pen in time to the music of an unfamiliar band blaring from the CD player. The band was incredible, and Kwest was heartened to see the look of enjoyment on Jamie's face, no doubt resulting from the thought of discovering the "next big thing." It had been awhile since Kwest had seen Jamie quite that happy.

Jamie had also been affected greatly by Jude's disappearance. It was no wonder, really, they had been friends since they were in diapers and Kwest could tell the feelings ran much deeper than friendship on Jamie's end. When Jude had been struggling in the months before she left, Jamie had been there for her more than anyone. And when she walked away without a word to anyone, Jamie was almost as devastated as Tommy was. Even now, although he had healed over the past two years, he was still a little distant and sad.

Kwest knocked on the open door; Jamie looked up and immediately waved him in.

"What's up, Kwest?"

"I need to go to L.A. for a few days. It's important, **really** important."

"Vague much?" Jamie said, laughing lightly. "What's going on?"

"Look, I can't say. Just know, I'm not cheating on Sadie and I'm not into anything illegal. But what I'm doing, if I'm right, it could be big for everyone here. I just, need you to cover for me while I'm away?"

Kwest quickly explained the lie he was about to tell Sadie to Jamie. He knew that if Sadie knew the "real" reason why he needed to leave, she'd insist on going too, and he just couldn't risk her traveling now. To protect her he needed to lie, much as he hated it.

Jamie glanced at him, worried and confused. "Are you sure you're okay, man?"

"I'm fine. Just trust me, okay?"

"Alright man. Well, good luck with whatever it is you're doing. And don't worry, I'll cover for you."

_One down, two more to go,_ Kwest mused as he headed towards Darius's office. He knocked on the large door and heard Darius beckon him to come in. He entered swiftly, closing the door behind him for privacy.

"Hey Kwest," Darius greeted, glancing down at the paperwork he had scattered haphazardly about his desk. Darius's desk was an uncharacteristic mess, and as Kwest neared the desk, he saw that it wasn't just any paperwork Darius was sorting through, but old promotional photos of Jude.

"I never could get rid of this stuff," Darius explained without being asked. "She was like my own daughter in some ways." Darius cleared his throat, looking up and remembering that he wasn't alone. "What do you need, Kwest?

"Actually, I'm heading to LA for a few days. It's about a great band there, ummm… an old friend said he could get me a personal introduction."

Darius shot him a skeptical look. Then he began to laugh. "Kwest, I have to say, a lot of people have tried to lie to me over the years but that… that was the worst I've ever heard." He was still chuckling loudly.

"Okay, look I'm following a lead that could mean something really important for all of us," Kwest said, continuing with the vague story he had told Jamie.

"Jude." Darius said immediately.

Kwest looked shocked. "How did you -"

Darius's face turned serious. "It's about time someone looked for her. I should have done it myself, and I would have if I thought she wasn't going to come back on her own."

"Don't say anything to—"

"Tommy." Darius finished for him. "Don't worry. I won't say anything."

"Thanks," Kwest said, standing up and heading for the door.

"Kwest…" Darius called from behind his desk. Kwest paused and turned to look at him. "Good luck."

_One more lie to go. The hardest one_, Kwest thought to himself as he headed towards Sadie's reception desk. He leaned on the counter waiting for her to finish up a call, and gave her what he hoped was an innocent smile.

"Hey Babe," she said, surprised to see him out of the studio.

"Hey yourself. Look, something's just come up and I have to head to L.A. for a few days." He lowered his voice, not relishing the idea that he was about to lie to his wife. "It's kind of hush-hush but Darius asked me to check out an artist who is about to sign with a label out there. You know, try to get them to sign with us instead."

"He wants you to check them out? Isn't that Jamie's deal?"

Kwest could feel the sweat building on his forehead and prayed that she didn't notice. He was such a poor liar, and he could see his wife's suspicion in her eyes. But if he could track Jude down or find out whatever the hell was going on in L.A., the trip and the lie would be worth it.

"Well, Jamie's got a lot going on right now so he asked if I'd mind going in his place. Look, baby, I know it's inconvenient, but I promise I'll be back in two days. And I'll bring you a pre...sent. Something shi...ny," he added with a sing-song, hoping to distract her with the thoughts of something new.

"Well, if you're going to buy me a present...How soon do you leave?" She smiled, and he could feel her reluctance slip away.

Kwest laughed, relieved to see how well this little diversion worked. "Eager to get rid of me are you, now? I catch the next flight out."

He went behind the counter, took her into his arms, and kissed her goodbye. After rubbing her belly, he turned to leave. "I'll be home soon."

Kwest returned to the studio, secretly wiping the sweat off his brow. That was easier than he had imagined. However, he knew the minute he had gone she'd be checking his story with everyone in the building. That's what he got for marrying such an intelligent woman.

Tommy turned at his entrance, raising an eyebrow in surprise when Kwest didn't resume his position behind the soundboard. "I've got to go out of town for a few days," he said, not offering any reason. He knew Tommy wasn't the type to pry, especially with all of his own issues occupying his mind.

Tommy nodded, "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine," Kwest assured. "I'll see you in a few days." And without allowing Tommy or anyone to ask any more questions, he raced out of the studio, kissing Sadie quickly again on his way out.

He hailed a cab and directed the driver towards the airport. Hopefully L.A. would hold the answers he needed to find.

* * *

Jude arrived safely in Vancouver, detouring briefly at her hotel to drop her suitcase off before heading towards the awaiting rock band and the lyrics that needed transforming. Her taxi sped towards the BlackStar office and a weak smile brightened her face marginally as she admired the beautiful scenery. She'd only been to Vancouver twice and she'd enjoyed herself both times. Her face fell as she realized the reason for her past enjoyment – Tommy. Both times she'd been to this city, she'd come with Tommy on vacation. He had loved it in Vancouver. She vividly remembered one particular day that they had taken the ferry to Vancouver Island, and they stood looking out on the Pacific Ocean. She remembered his buoyant happiness, the spark in his electric blue eyes, as he told her how much he loved the serene feeling he got from being there. As always when she thought of the past, the pain in her heart crippled her, making it hard for her to take a breath. Out of self-preservation, she shoved the thought, and all thoughts of Tommy, forcefully from her mind as the cab driver pulled up in front of the office building.

She thanked him politely and paid him before hopping out of the cab. She pulled her ball cap, her small measure of disguise, down as far as it would go to cover her face before proceeding into the building. As the summer weather was only slightly cooler here than it was in LA, she couldn't wear any baggy sweaters. A ball cap would have to suffice to hide her.

Her eyes took in the plush lobby of the building. The dark colors and rich furniture reminded her of the building she worked at in LA. She asked for John Wilkins at the reception desk, and then turned around to give the lobby another look.

"Noelle Harris?" she heard a deep voice ask from behind her. She almost didn't turn around. Even after two years of using that name, it still felt unfamiliar and…wrong.

She spun quickly, trying to hide her initial hesitation. "Mr. Wilkins?"

The large, burly man standing in front of her smiled kindly. "Please call me John." He offered his hand, which she reached forward to shake. John immediately began to lead her towards the elevators.

"Okay, John. It's nice to meet you. So you manage the group I'll be working with?"

"Yes, I'm sorry about the confusion with their name. They're having some issues picking a new one." John said wryly, stepping in the elevator ahead of Jude and pressing the button for the fifth floor.

Jude smiled sympathetically. She knew from her experience at G-Major and BlackStar that some bands were extremely high-maintenance.

"So, what kind of rock are they? Heavy metal? Punk? More general rock?" Jude asked. "It helps my lyrics if I get a feel for what type of band they are."

"Umm… they're pretty unique." John said hesitantly. "I think you're going to have to listen for yourself to figure out exactly what they are."

"Alright," Jude replied, taken aback. She couldn't remember ever hearing a band talked about in quite that way.

The elevator doors swept open and John began leading her down the hallway. He began to turn into an office when a question popped into Jude's mind.

"By the way, what did their name used to be?"

John laughed loudly. "It was based off the lead's last name. Spiederman Mind Explosion was the name they went by before, I believe."

Jude froze, now standing in the doorway of the office, looking into the equally shocked faces of Speed, Kyle and Wally.

* * *

Kwest settled in the waiting area, surprised that he'd been able to get a flight that boarded in only thirty minutes.

He pulled out his cell phone, dialing Mason's number. On the ride to the airport, he had thought about how unfair it was to leave without telling Mason anything. They'd been working on this little 'project' together and he would have been angry if Mason had left him out of something this big.

Mason picked up after a few rings, impatience in his voice. "Hello?"

"Mason, it's Kwest."

"Kwest, I was hoping you'd call! What's going on?" He could hear the relief flooding Mason's voice.

"Are you alone?"

"Yeah, I'm standing outside the building, taking a break."

"Sorry I left so suddenly but it's been a bit of a crazy morning." Kwest sighed loudly before informing Mason of the phone call he'd received and the surprising news that had accompanied it.

"Dead?" Mason shouted, the sadness and disbelief evident in his voice. "It can't be."

Kwest was instantly sorry he'd told him, that he'd caused that kind of pain even for an instant. "See, I don't think it can be. Isn't it a little suspicious to you?" Kwest filled him in on the rest, including the part about Joe talking to a girl sounding suspiciously like Jude.

"So, she's not dead. Jude's not dead!?" Mason asked excitedly.

But before Kwest could say anything else, he heard a familiar voice roar _"What?"_ in the distance on Mason's end of the line. Although Mason recognized the voice instantly, he turned slowly to confirm his suspicions and saw the rage blackening Tommy Quincy's eyes.


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six:

Mason could see Tommy's eyes becoming darker as he approached, and by the time Tommy was standing in front of him, his eyes were like onyx. To say he was angry was a major understatement.

"You're going to have make something clear for me, Mason," Tommy seethed through his teeth. "When _exactly_ was my wife supposed to be dead?"

Mason quickly pulled the phone away from his ear, slamming it shut. Kwest would just have to forgive him for hanging up on him, because the situation developing in front of him needed to be addressed. Like immediately. Preferably before Tommy ripped his head off with his bare hands.

"L-look, Tom, I know you're upset. Obviously you're upset, why wouldn't you be upset? You just heard me say your wife was dead. Or rather, not dead. But it's not what you think. Just, just...Calm down!! Ok? I can explain." Mason insisted, holding his hands up defensively. As Tommy closed the space between them, Mason moved back until he slammed into the wall.

"Calm down??!?" Tommy yelled, the outrage clear in his tone. "I want to know what the **FUCK** is going on here!!" He shoved Mason back against the wall, emphasizing his desperation to know what exactly Mason knew about Jude.

"Wh-What do you want to know?" Mason asked, not really knowing where to start.

Tommy was breathing deeply, narrowly avoiding a panic attack. The shock of hearing Jude's name in the same sentence as the word 'dead' was more than his heart could take. "Is Jude alright?" he asked softly, his voice betraying his worry. He hadn't seen her for two years but that didn't mean he'd stopped caring. Or worrying about her.

Mason "She's fine…As far as I know," he added the last part softly, hoping Quincy wouldn't catch on to his uncertainty.

"What do you mean, 'as far as you know'? Do you know where she is?" Tommy asked, the questions beginning to spill out. Tommy could feel his heart racing, the anticipation causing his adrenaline to pump rapidly throughout his body. If Mason knew where she was, that meant…well, that could mean a lot of different things. There could be a lot of possibilities, if only he could see her and talk to her again. He bowed his head, closing his eyes as all the scenarios passed through his mind. And in that moment, when the thought of seeing Jude again was so _close_, he instantly regretted all the time he'd already wasted by not looking for her.

"Look, Tommy, I'm honestly not sure if we know where she is or not. Kwest and I, we're looking, though."

Tommy's head shot up at the mention of Kwest's name. "Kwest? So you and Kwest have been looking for her, without telling me?"

"Not for long, just since...your last drinking binge started."

Tommy looked away in shame at Mason's blatant mention of his dirty little secret. Okay, not so secret.

He furrowed his brow in confusion. "Okay, start at the beginning. Tell me everything you know about Jude."

His gaze was intense and determined, and still a little bit worried, but Mason knew the last thing he could do was lie to Tommy now. He thought to himself that it was probably about time Tommy involved himself in the search for his own wife.

* * *

"As I live and breathe. IT'S JUDE FUCKING HARRISON FUCKING QUINCY!!! Spied yelled, instantly standing up and running around the large, boardroom table he had been sitting at, to envelop her in a suffocating embrace. Jude stood paralyzed, still unable to believe the serendipitous meeting.

John eyed Spied like he was on drugs, opening his mouth to correct him. But before he could, Jude intervened, asking for a minute alone with her new clients.

"Sure thing. I'll be in my office down the hall if you need me." John leaned in closer to Jude's ear, as Spied still clung to her tightly. "Good luck with these guys," he whispered, winking at her in a friendly manner.

When Spied finally let go, Jude was swept up simultaneously by Kyle and Wally. She couldn't help but feel a sliver of her old immaturity even just being in the presence of these three again. She laughed lightly until Wally began to get a little too close and she pushed him roughly, but playfully, away. Some things _never_ changed.

She stared at the three slightly older looking boys in front of her. And she meant 'boys' because these three were definitely not men yet.

She didn't even know what to say. She knew they would be expecting an explanation of her disappearance, and the last thing she wanted to get into was the truth.

"So…" she began.

"So, what the fuck, dude? Where have you been? Quincy's going to have a coronary when he hears that we've found you!" Spied laughed, turning to the other two stooges for agreement.

Jude closed her eyes for a moment at his mention of Tommy. No. No. NOOOO. She could feel her life, the one free of Toronto and Tommy, spiralling suddenly out of her control.

She opened her eyes and breathed deeply, trying to regain her composure. "You won't know how he'd react. Because you're not going to tell ANYONE that you've seen me. Clear?" Her voice came out much stronger and fiercer than she felt inside.

She saw complete confusion reflected in the three sets of eyes in front of her. She decided to tone down here attitude a bit. Once upon a time, these guys were her friends, her band mates. "Look," she said, exhaling deeply. "While you guys were on tour, a LOT went down that you don't know about. You guys were gone for a year before I left and there's a lot you missed out on. A lot of bad, life-changing stuff."

"We do read the papers you know," Kyle said, his voice low and his head bowed to avoid her eyes. He was obviously talking about Chloe. Jude still felt her knees go weak when she thought about her little girl. The day she'd lost her was the worst day of her life.

It was also the Canadian media's best news day that year. She would never forgive the press for how they hounded her and Tommy, how they'd felt no shame in asking them the most invasive questions about their stillborn daughter. A press release was issued but of course that was not enough. The press swarmed like vultures, reveling in their pain. They were there again to capture her and Tommy's ensuing problems. Every detail large or small had been caught, magnified, and blown out of proportion, by the media.

"I know, I'm sorry. I forget sometimes how public my life was then," she said, and then she remembered that SME _had_ known about her baby. Even though they hadn't been able to attend the funeral, they'd been among the few people to actually honor Chloe. She chastised herself for not remembering this sooner. "I did get the flowers and the card you guys sent. I never did get to thank you for that. It meant more to me than you'll ever know," she said, wiping away a lone tear the slid silently down her cheek.

Spied reached forward, squeezing her hand tightly, and smiled at her sympathetically. He could see the loneliness and sadness that resonated in her eyes. He continued to hold onto her hand, leading her to one of the chairs around the table, and sat down on the chair next to her, her hand firmly encased in his. Kyle and Wally sat down on her other side.

Jude instantly felt surrounded by the warmth of her old friends. She had forgotten just how much she missed them.

"Anyway," she continued, "the thing that they didn't report in the press was how badly things ended between Tommy and me. The only ones who know about that are he and I. And I'd like it to stay that way," she added, wiping a few more tears off her face with her free hand. "The important thing is that I'm not that person anymore. I'm not Jude Harrison Quincy, even in name. I'm Noelle Harris, songwriter. That's it. End of story. And no one can know that I'm here with you."

Spied glanced at Kyle and Wally. "Hey guys, I think I saw some leftover pizza in the fridge in the lounge." Kyle and Wally shot each other a look and glanced quickly at Jude, searching for approval that it was okay to leave. She nodded immediately, even though she knew very well what Spied was up to. They raced out of the room and Jude heard the soles of their sneakers slapping against the ceramic tile as they ran down the hall.

"Well, that was subtle," Jude commented, her voice laced with sarcasm.

"I don't believe I've ever been attributed with that particular quality," Spied said, laughing softly and squeezing her hand.

Jude mustered a small smile in reply, the happiest face she could force herself to show. All of this discussion about Tommy and Chloe really had her feeling low.

"Jude, dude. I have to say, I'm worried about you," Spied said, cutting right to the heart of the matter. "I'm so glad to see you. But you're thin, and pale at best. And a new identity? What happened, Jude? If I'm going to help hide you out here, I need to know what really went down."

Jude pulled her hand out of Spied's grasp and clasped her hands together firmly in her lap. "Look, things just got ugly and I needed to not be that girl anymore."

Speed was appalled. "_That_ girl? You talk about yourself like you were another person then. _That_ girl is the same girl who sits in front of me now, whether you'd like to admit it or not." He paused for a minute, hoping some of what he was saying would sink in. "Jude, what happened? After a year and a half on tour, I come back to find you gone, without a trace of where you are. Tommy's a freaking mess, a lost soul. Sadie, don't even get me started on her. Even Darius. Come on, Jude. We both know that's not like you. I'm not trying to lay a guilt trip on you, I'm just saying something mighty serious must have happened between you and Quincy for you to just bail like that."

Jude knew she had to answer him, that she owed him_something_. She tried to formulate an adequate response in her brain, without telling him too much or forcing herself to dredge up that awful night and the horrible things Tommy had said to her. "Tommy… well, let's just say he said some things. Things I found it hard to live with. So I left...for both our sakes. It was the only way to cut ties. To move on."

Spied reached for her left hand, picked it up out of her lap, and waved it in front of her own face. "That may be the lie you tell yourself, but _this_ says otherwise. So tell me the truth. Have you _really_ moved on at all?" Spied asked, the glare reflecting off the gold of her wedding band blinding them both.

* * *

Kwest hailed a cab, giving the driver the address of BlackStar Records he'd gotten from the G-Major database, and settled in the backseat. Ever since Mason had hung up on him, his brain had been racing with different thoughts and scenarios. One thing was clear – Tommy had heard Mason say something about Jude not being dead. He could only imagine what thoughts must have run through Tommy's mind after hearing that. He had tried calling Mason a few times since the plane landed but he hadn't gotten any answer. He didn't know what to think. Either Tommy now knew everything or Mason was lying dead in the street outside of G-Major. He knew that Tommy wouldn't let a comment like that pass, not about Jude. Tommy had never claimed to have stopped caring about Jude, and honestly, Kwest didn't think that was possible for either Jude or Tommy. That was one reason why he felt so determined to find Jude. She and Tommy belonged together; that was what he firmly believed anyway. He was going to do his part to make sure they had one more chance to put the fragments of their shattered relationship back together. Then he was going to butt out of their lives and take a well deserved vacation with his pregnant wife. That is, if his wife didn't kill him first for keeping his search for Jude from her. He winced when he thought of how angry she was going to be. And even pregnant, she packed a hell of a punch. Kwest silently reminded himself to get that present for her before he left L.A.; otherwise, he really would be dead.

The cab pulled up in front of the building and came to a halt next to a large black sign which identified it as the head office of BlackStar Records. Kwest paid the driver and made his way through the front door, heading immediately for the receptionist, a young blonde woman who was handling the hustle and bustle quite professionally, despite her young age.

She smiled cordially at him. "Can I help you, sir?"

Kwest smiled politely. "Where might I find Joe Stevens?" He watched as she checked the list of employees for their offices and extensions.

"His office is on the seventh floor," she stated, and Kwest thanked her before heading to the elevators.

He was close. He could feel it. Not that he knew what he was going to say if he actually found Jude. He just prayed the words and the wisdom would come to him when the time came.

He rode up the elevator by himself, stepping out into the darkly, and expensively, decorated corridor of the seventh floor. He walked slowly, reading all the names on the doors until he came across the one he was looking for.

Joe Stevens. Sound Engineer. His only hope for finding Jude Harrison Quincy.

He knocked softly on the closed door, and heard his friend's familiar voice beckoning him into the office. He turned the knob and immediately heard his friend's deep laughter.

"Well, if it isn't Kwest Taylor!!" Joe said, standing up and walking around his desk to shake Kwest's hand.

Kwest smiled at Joe's friendly welcome. "Nice to see you, man. Although I wish I could say I was here to catch up, I think you know why I'm here."

Joe nodded. "This Jude Harrison you were telling me about. Something tells me you don't think she's dead." Joe was clearly intrigued by what was going on, and why this girl was so important.

Kwest shook his head. "I certainly hope not." He suddenly got an idea and removed his wallet from his back pocket, filing through it and pulling out a small picture.

He held the small image out for Joe to look at. "The woman on the left. Does she look familiar to you?"

Joe reached for the picture, and Kwest watched as his eyes widened in surprise. "Yeah. That's her. That's the girl who told me Jude Harrison was dead."

Kwest released a huge sigh of relief and felt the excitement building. Jude wasn't dead, although, apparently she wanted people to think she was.

Joe eyed him curiously and waited for Kwest to explain.

"Joe, that girl _is_ Jude Harrison. Actually Jude Quincy since she got married four years ago. She's my sister-in-law." Kwest pointed to the picture. "The woman standing next to her is my wife, Sadie."

Kwest saw Joe trying to process all the new information.

"Wow." He handed the picture back to Kwest, who shoved it back into his wallet. "So, why would she say—"

Kwest cut him off. "I wish I knew. I need to find her to find out what's going on."

"Hang on one second," Joe said, walking back around his desk and picking up his phone. He pressed a few numbers and held the handset to his ear. "Hi Rachel. Can you tell me if there's a Jude Harrison or a Jude Quincy listed as working here?" He waited for a few minutes for a response and Kwest noticed his brow furrow when the woman's voice returned to the line. "Thanks anyway, Rach," Joe said, before hanging up the receiver.

Joe returned his attention to Kwest. "Well, Rachel in reception says that no one listed under that name works here."

The lightbulb went off in Kwest's brain. "Of course. If she would tell you she was dead, she's obviously not using her real name. The problem is I have no idea what name she would use. Any chance your receptionist would let me steal a peek at your employee list?"

"You don't ask for much, do you?" Joe asked, laughing. "Let me see what I can do." He returned to the phone, and Kwest began to think about what all of this meant.

Jude was not dead. She was very much alive. He felt the weight of worry lifting from his shoulders. Now, he just had to find her. That feat didn't seem nearly as insurmountable as it had only a couple days ago.

"Well, apparently it's your lucky day," Joe said as he hung up the phone. He smirked and he continued. "She said you could look at the list to see if you recognized any names. I didn't tell her exactly why, I just said you needed to find someone."

"Thank you," Kwest said, beaming with gratitude. "I'd really appreciate it if you kept all of this—"

"Quiet," Joe finished for him. "No worries. Good luck, man." He outstretched his hand, which Kwest shook.

"Take care, man," Kwest said before sailing out of his office and down the hall back towards the elevators. The trip down to the front office was a blur. He was filled with excitement, but also anxiety.

And that anxiety tripled when he looked at the list. He'd hoped Jude had used a name that would be obvious to him, something that he would have recognized. But as he skimmed through the list, his heart sunk in his chest. Not one name held any significance. Had he come this far, just to fail now?

He read the list three times, hoping something would pop out at him. But nothing did. He swore under his breath, before handing the list back and thanking the receptionist warmly.

"Any luck?" Kwest turned to see Joe approaching. Kwest shook his head in frustration. Joe frowned in sympathy. "Come on, let's go have a coffee on me. You definitely look like you could use one." He led Kwest towards the main floor lounge, a large sprawling room with plush black furnishings.

"I just… I thought I was close. But not one of those names means a thing to me. I guess I can't imagine her as anything but Jude Quincy," Kwest mused as Joe handed him a coffee.

Joe's cell phone rang, and Joe visibly hesitated, not wanting to interrupt Kwest. Kwest motioned for him to answer it.

Joe took the call, insisting he would be upstairs in a few minutes. "Can't it wait until then?" Joe asked angrily.

"It's okay, man," Kwest interjected, not wanting his friend to get in any trouble. "You go. I need to figure out where to go from here, anyway."

Joe hung up the phone and stood. "I'll be in the studio on the fourth floor if you need me. Let me know if I can be of any more help, okay?"

Kwest nodded and absently sipped his lukewarm coffee as he watched Joe walk away. He really had no idea what he was going to do next. Should he camp out in the lobby, waiting to see if he spotted her?

He stood up, feeling the need for some air to clear his head. But before he could go anywhere, he heard a voice. "Did I hear you right? You're looking for Jude Harrison?" Kwest spun around, turning to look at the man who had just spoken to him. Maybe it wasn't such a dead end after all.

"You heard correctly," Kwest said cautiously, not wanting to give too much information to someone he didn't even know.

The man came closer, lowering his voice to just above a whisper. "You were right when you said you couldn't imagine her with any other name but Jude Harrison Quincy. This new one, it just doesn't fit her at all." He offered his hand. "I'm Mike Morgensen, by the way."

Kwest's eyebrows rose in shock, and he subconsciously shook Mike's hand. "You know her? What name does she go by? How can I get in touch with her?" Kwest said all in a rush, momentarily forgetting his earlier hesitation.

"How exactly do you know Jude?" Mike asked, remaining pleasant but also cautious himself. He liked Jude and he certainly didn't want to put her in harm's way by telling the wrong people anything. But he'd also seen how miserable Jude was. If this guy could help her, Mike thought it was worth the shot.

Kwest recognized the protective instinct. He pulled out the same picture he'd shown Joe, and handed it to Mike. "I'm her brother-in-law. My wife, Jude's sister Sadie, is pregnant and I'm hoping to find Jude to convince her to come home, at least for a visit." Kwest knew that, whoever this guy was, he likely knew nothing about the whole Tommy drama, and he didn't need to know the biggest reason why Jude needed to come home.

The recognition flashed on Mike's face. "Yeah, I think Jude mentioned her sister in passing once. She's pretty tight-lipped about everything. It's pretty hard to pry anything out of her, and believe me, I've tried," Mike commented, smiling wryly. Kwest noticed that the picture seemed to reinforce his story for Mike.

"Noelle Harris," Mike said suddenly. "That's the name she's using."

"Do you know where I'd find her?" Kwest asked, feeling his hope rising.

"Usually you could find her right here, stocking up on caffeine. But she's gone to Vancouver for the next couple of weeks. She's at the BlackStar office there working with some rock band." Mike pulled out his business card from his office. "The general Vancouver office number is on there."

"Thank you. Thank you so much!" Kwest said, sincerely, shaking Mike's hand quickly before turning on his heels and heading for the exit. Well, it looked like quite the wild goose chase he was on. He'd have to pick up Sadie's present at the airport.

_Vancouver,_ he thought to himself, _here I come. _

* * *

Tommy paced his living room, wearing a hole in the carpet below his feet. How had things gotten so twisted?

Mason had told him everything he knew, but somewhere during their conversation, which consisted mostly of Tommy yelling and Mason cowering, Tommy had decided that he'd had enough of hearing second hand information. The problem was that he didn't know what to do. He'd left a few messages for Kwest, figuring he would have the most up to date information on Jude's whereabouts.

He was so disgusted with himself. He shouldn't be hearing about Jude from someone else. How had he gotten to this point?

Hearing that she was dead, or that she had been presumed dead by Kwest, had really shaken him up. It had put a lot of things into perspective, namely his own stupidity. For over two years he'd been wallowing in his own pain and ignoring everything else. He'd let Jude walk away without questioning why or even trying to get her back. And whether he wanted to admit it or not, he'd secretly judged her, tried to measure the depths of her grief when they'd lost Chloe. He'd felt such a void that he'd allowed himself to distance himself from her and judge her when she'd needed him the most. What right had he had to do that? What a fool he'd been.

Suddenly everything was so real for him. He had the desperate need to touch her, run his hands through her soft hair and feel her body curled into his like she used to do when she slept.

He was abruptly struck with one particular memory, one when Jude had been about four months pregnant. Jude had always been fond of sleep, and pregnancy had just intensified this. He'd come home from G-Major to find her napping in their bedroom. After watching her sleeping peacefully for a moment, he had lain down beside her, enjoying the way she immediately responded to his presence on the bed by turning into him. He'd placed his one hand on her stomach, and the baby had kicked. He remembered distinctly how happy he had been. Blissfully so. He wanted that back, he wanted _her_ back, more than anything.

But that wasn't likely, at least not when he still didn't even know where she was.

He jogged up the stairs two at a time, and rushed into his bedroom, swinging the closet door open. He lifted a large, white box down from the top shelf and sat on the floor in front of the closet, gently placing the box in his lap. He tentatively lifted the lid, immediately confronted with memories. He lifted out an album, a simple yellow and green book with an outline of a teddy bear on the front. This was supposed to be their daughter's first photo album. He opened it, already knowing what he would find. Jude has lovingly put each ultrasound picture in the album, labelling how many months each one was captured at. Even looking at Jude's slightly messy writing, he felt the emotion building in his throat. He traced the words with his finger, remembering when he watched her write in the book. It seemed like a lifetime ago.Life was not fair. He shouldn't have been looking at an empty photo album. He should have been here with Jude, and the album should have been full of pictures, full of shots of all of them together, of their baby, happy, healthy, growing...full of _**life**_.

He slammed the album shut, pushing it back inside the box. He couldn't deal with any more today. He repositioned the lid but didn't put the box back in the depths of the closet. He couldn't hide from the past any more. That's what he had been doing for over two years and look where it had gotten him.

He felt his pocket begin to vibrate and he absently reached for the phone in his pocket. The call display identified the caller as "Kwest".

Tommy's heart began to race. Finally the call he was waiting for.


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven:

Tommy slammed his cell phone shut, throwing the small device across the room. The uncontrollable anger rose within him, from his very core. His heart had gone from hope to rage within about thirty seconds, the length of his very short conversation with Kwest.

Kwest wouldn't tell him where she was. Or more correctly, where he thought she was. From the little information Kwest _was_ willing to share, he'd found out that Kwest was following a lead and didn't want him to get his hopes up in case it didn't pan out.But Tommy still couldn't help but feel the betrayal seeping in at his supposed best friend's refusal to give him even one tidbit of information to hold on to.

He played the conversation back in his mind, trying to make sense of what his friend had said. Kwest had told him, in the gentlest way possible, to be patient and work on pulling himself together. He still found it hard to believe that Kwest had actually asked him if he did find Jude, if Tommy really wanted her to see him so messed up?And Kwest had also mentioned something about talking to Jude first. Since when was his best friend the one handling Jude??

He angrily ran his hand through his hair, not moving from his position on the floor. The large white memory box was still sitting on the floor in front of him, and he moved his hand tentatively forward, reaching for it.

But when his fingers grazed the side of the box, he withdrew them quickly, like he had been burned, and jumped to his feet. He couldn't deal with any more pain or memories tonight.

Oblivious to what he wanted, his mind wouldn't let him forget anything. In fact, for the first time in a long while, he began to remember everything about Jude clearly, vividly. After allowing his heart to open a little, to really believe in the possibility that he was going to see her again, hope had rushed in and would not relent. His heart knew what it wanted. The same thing he had always wanted. Not money or fame or prestige. Simply Jude.

As he paced the room, searching for something to distract his busy mind, he was struck with an onslaught of images and scenes from his relationship with Jude.

He could see exactly how mesmerizing she had looked when, on her eighteen birthday, he'd asked her to go on a real date. The shock, the joy, the happiness that had shone on her face. And he remembered the dismay he'd felt when she had said no. Repeatedly, for two weeks, he'd harassed her, begging to know why she refused to go on an actual date with him. Since she was fifteen, they'd danced around their feelings because he refused to date her when she wasn't a legal adult. He'd waited, very impatiently, for her eighteenth birthday when he could _finally_ publicly show his feelings for her. Although she had evaded him for the two weeks following, he could envision the day when it had been just the two of them in the studio and he had finally been able to corner her. He had kissed her feverishly until she admitted that it was her fear that was holding her back. She also finally admitted that she wanted him too. He could even feel her soft lips, as if he was kissing her now.

He collapsed on the bed, closing his eyes in an attempt to stop another memory from helplessly filling his mind. It didn't work. He watched, in his mind, as the moment Jude agreed to be his wife played over and over again in his mind. In a moment typical of their relationship, they had been in the middle of a huge argument when he had caught a glimpse of her, her cheeks flushed with anger and her eyes shining with fire and indignation, and he couldn't speak. Something about that moment made him realize that she was what he wanted, even when they were having a rousing fight. The words "Marry me," had spilled from his lips, causing first shock and then joy to pass over her expression. She had jumped into his arms and kissed him and the argument had been forgotten. Well, mused Tommy pensively, he guessed you could say they had both won that fight.

This led his mind, rather logically, to another blissful day. He desperately tried to stop his mind from going there, from reliving the day that he'd thought that he finally had everything he'd ever want. Jude had planned a special night, attempting to make a home-cooked dinner, which didn't turn out _too_ badly considering her horrible cooking skills. At the end of the perfect evening, she had handed him a small box which had held the tiniest pacifier. And with her blue eyes glistening, she'd whispered that she was having a baby, that he was going to be a father. Regardless of the way he was trying to shut this particular memory out of his mind, he still remembered the softness of her body as he had raced around the dinner table and swept her up in his arms. He had held his whole world in his arms that night. A world that would eventually come crashing down around him.

Just as his brain was processing other, later, more painful memories that involved his daughter, he forced his eyes open, nearly running down the stairs to the kitchen. He quickly swung open the doors of the liquor cabinet and carelessly pulled two full bottles from the shelf, dragging them to the kitchen counter and sloppily pouring the amber liquid from one of the bottles into a large glass.

He felt dizzy with the sudden onset of memories, some good and others not. Some so painful that he had to get rid of them the only way he knew how. Regardless of Kwest's warning to 'pull himself together', he raised the glass to his lips and drank the contents in two swallows. And as he reveled in the feel of the warmth burning his throat, the alcohol clouding his brain washed away the images of his wife and daughter that he couldn't allow himself to remember.

* * *

Speed let go of her hand, and it dropped back into Jude's lap. She stared at the ring on her finger, thinking about the obvious point Speed had brought up. Why did she still wear the damned thing? More importantly, why hadn't she ever cut that tie to a man she didn't even know any more? She had asked herself these questions so many times and never could come up with any answers.

"What did Tommy say?" Speed asked suddenly, and Jude's head shot up, surprised by the question.

"Excuse me?"

"You said that Tommy said some things that you found hard to live with. What did he say?" Speed reiterated, noticing her shock at being asked so directly.

"I can't… I can't talk about that," Jude stammered, standing up quickly and moving across the room to look out the window. Within a minute, she felt Speed's presence behind her.

"Have you ever talked to anyone about this?" His voice was strong and steady, and Jude knew he was trying to be a supportive friend. But she wasn't used to that anymore. She was accustomed to keeping everything inside and trying to hide the pain she still dealt with daily.

She turned around, met by Speed's worried expression and caring eyes, and took in his words, "Dude, you need to talk to someone, even if it's not me."

She walked slowly back to the chair she had been sitting in, fully absorbing Speed's words. Maybe she should tell him. She had to admit, a part of her was tired of carrying this weight all by herself.

She turned her head towards Speed. "Okay," she whispered softly. "I'll tell you."

Speed returned to the chair beside hers, reached for her hand, and gripped it tightly, waiting for her to start when she was ready.

Jude opened her mouth, not sure where to begin. "After Chloe… well, you know," she began, her words dropping off as she was still unable to verbalize the word 'dead', "Tommy disappeared. I mean, not physically. His body was there most of the time, but he wasn't my Tommy anymore. He was drinking. He was yelling a lot. He said a lot of stupid things. And I didn't pay any attention to his ramblings most days. But one night, it was different." She could feel the tears pressing for release, and didn't see any point in trying to stop them as they began to slide down her cheeks. Speed lifted a hand and attempted to wipe them away. He couldn't stand the pain that was written all over his friend's face. She deserved so much better than this.

"One night, Tommy came home really drunk. That wasn't surprising but… he just seemed repulsed by me," she whispered, barely able to express how he'd acted that fateful night. She could feel her body beginning to shake as she came close to finishing the story. "He wouldn't even let me help him climb the stairs. And then he started rambling, saying that I…" her voice broke as she tried to continue, "that I… that it was all my fault…" she managed to whisper before her body broke down in overwhelming sobs. Speed slid his chair as close to Jude's as he could and pulled her into his comforting arms. And for the first time since the day she'd lost her baby, she cried in a real, uncontrollable way.

Speed stroked her back lightly, trying to console Jude in any way he could. He was trying to keep his ire under control, although he was losing that battle. _How could Tommy say that to her? As if she hadn't suffered enough._ He had never exactly liked Tommy, but this… this was unforgivable. No wonder she'd left. He could feel the shaking beginning to subside under his hand, and Jude lifted her tear stained face.

As Jude finally pulled herself out of her sobs, she released herself from Speed's arms and wiped furiously at the moisture on her cheeks. "I'm sorry," she said, her voice hoarse from crying.

"Please don't apologize. I'm here for you now. I'm just sorry I'm here two years later than you needed me to be." He reached forward, squeezing her shoulders lightly. "And don't think you'll be running away again without a word. Now that you're back in my life, I'm not letting my favorite rock star get away again," he joked lightly, but he could immediately see his quip was not humorous to her. "What's wrong?"

She evaded his eyes, knowing he wouldn't approve of her choice not to sing any more. "I'm not… I don't sing anymore. BlackStar doesn't even know that I can sing," she whispered, as though the secret would be out if she spoke the words any louder.

Speed's eyebrows immediately rose in confusion. "WHAT??" he inquired loudly, flailing his arms out in front of him. "That's ridiculous!"

"Okay, okay!!" Jude said frantically, grabbing his arm to try and get him to calm down. "Look, I've had enough talking about me today. I want to hear about you."

Speed was dying to question her further to find out why she didn't sing anymore, but the exhausted, broken look in her eyes stopped him. One confession per day was draining enough. He'd bug her for more information tomorrow.

"Well, there's not that much to tell," he said, settling back in his own chair. "After we came back from our tour, we could see that G-Major wasn't really working for us anymore so we looked elsewhere. And BlackStar was willing to give us a chance. We've been signed with them for almost 2 years, not that we've made that much progress. Plus, they want us to change our name. They think it will give us more 'edge'," Spied commented, making air quotes for emphasis, and rolling his eyes in annoyance. "Our contract is up for renewal this month, actually, so we'll see what happens."

"What about Karma?" Jude asked, pulling her legs underneath her, able to get more comfortable now that she didn't have to talk about herself. She couldn't believe she had broken down like that. A moment of weakness with an old friend. If she planned on going back to her life of solitude, she couldn't allow that to happen anymore. Although, she grudgingly admitted to herself that she did feel better know that someone else, specifically Speed who she had always cared about, knew the whole story. Someone, even for a minute, to share the awfulness of her experience with.

Speed scowled at the mention of Karma's name. "That was another reason I needed to get out of G-Major. Karma was still signed there and things didn't end too well."

Jude lifted her eyebrows, waiting for more details. She had, after all, just bared her soul to him. Speed took the hint and continued, saying "She cheated. And that's just… that's something I couldn't forgive. It was with a drummer for one of the bands signed to G-Major. So, things were getting a little complicated."

Jude's mouth opened in shock. "I'm sorry, Speed. That's…horrible," she stated sympathetically, searching for the proper word to sum up how awful it was. There wasn't a perfect word. Heartbreak that deep, a type of pain Jude was well acquainted with, transcended all words in the English language. She had never liked Karma, but Speed didn't deserve to have his heart broken like that.

"It's okay. I mean, it was worse at the time than I ever could have imagined, but it showed me what she was really like before I got in too deep to get out. Looks like love didn't do either one of us any good, did it, Dude? Well, now we have each other again. Who needs more than that?" Speed said, making his best attempt at a smile, although Jude could tell the heavy conversation was taking its toll on him too.

Jude faked a smile at his quips, her eyes drawn back to her wedding band. All this talk of cheating had started Jude's brain thinking. Had Tommy cheated? Would it even be cheating, considering her absence? Her head began to spin at the possibility of Tommy finding someone else. Didn't she know it would happen eventually when she left? She couldn't keep her mind from wondering how she would feel if he eventually married someone else. That is, once she divorced him. _If_ she divorced him. She was so goddamn confused.

"Jude, are you okay?"

She ripped her eyes away from her wedding band to look up at Speed. "I'm fine. Why don't we get down to work until Kyle and Wally reappear? Show me some of the lyrics we'll be working on…"

* * *

Kwest was really beginning to hate airports. He'd seen far too many of them lately. He'd been sitting at the coffee shop at the Vancouver International Airport since he'd gotten off the phone with Tommy, trying to recover from the sound of anger and sadness he'd heard in his friend's voice when he'd hung up.

When he'd first started talking, Tommy had sounded hopeful, desperate to know where Jude was. He hadn't wanted to crush his friend, but if he was right, seeing Quincy was the last thing Jude wanted right now. He felt guilty for the little white lie he'd told but this was a fragile situation. After all, something must have happened that made Jude feel she needed to run away from him. And the last thing Kwest wanted was to scare Jude off by Tommy's presence before he had the chance to try to convince her to come back to Toronto. Because if Jude wouldn't come back for Tommy, Kwest had the only secret weapon at his disposal that might persuade Jude. Sadie.

Kwest took a deep breath, trying to cleanse himself of the guilt he felt for not telling Tommy Jude's location, and stood up, making his way to the cabs. The sooner he got to BlackStar and talked to Jude, the better.

Luckily, the taxi only took twenty minutes to reach BlackStar. Kwest had been a little petrified by the driver's erratic turns and speedy driving, which reminded him a lot of Tommy's, but at least he had arrived in front of the BlackStar building alive.

He strode purposely into the building and approached the receptionist, thankful he had the name Jude was now going by. It would make things a lot easier.

The perky receptionist smiled at him. "How can I help you, sir?"

"I'm looking for Noelle Harris. She's from the LA office; she came here to work with a rock band. I'm not sure what they're called."

The receptionist scanned the list of expected guests, her finger pausing as she looked back up at Kwest. "Yes, here she is. She's up on the fifth floor. She should be in office 507 or 508."

"Thank you," Kwest said politely before taking off for the elevators. He could not believe he was so close. He silently prayed that nothing would get in the way this time. He couldn't take another dead end or disappointment.

He impatiently rode the elevator, which seemed to be moving at half speed, tapping his foot nervously the whole ride up. His heart was pounding. If he could find her, and convince her to come back, he knew how many lives he would be affecting. That was an awful lot of pressure on him to succeed.

He stepped through the half open elevator doors, breaking into a jog down the hallway. He stopped abruptly when he reached office 507, the first of the two choices where she could. As he raised his hand to knock on the door, he heard familiar laughter. Except it wasn't Jude's.

Instead of knocking, he pushed the half open door fully open and stared in amazement at the scene in front of him. Jude was sitting at the large table but she wasn't alone. Vincent Spiederman was sitting right next to her.

As the door creaked open, Speed and Jude both lifted their heads. Three shocked faces stared at each other, none of them able to believe who was in front of them.

Jude was the first to speak. "Kwest?" She couldn't believe her eyes. In spite of herself, she smiled at his friendly, familiar face.

Kwest smiled back, a bit of the shock wearing off at seeing Spiederman too. "Hey little sister," he said, stepping into the office. "It's been a long time. Far too long."

He made his way to her side and she stood, hugging him tightly. She'd forgotten how much she missed him, how much of a brother he really was to her. Seeing him again was like reuniting with family.

He released Jude, turning to Speed. "Speed, my man. How are you?"

"Good, very good," Speed answered, and the two men hugged in the characteristic male fashion.

Jude took her seat again, still shocked at seeing not one, but two familiar faces today. It was putting her brain and her heart, which she had closed off to everyone, into overload.

Kwest took the seat on the other side of Jude. "It's good to see you, Jude."

"You too, Kwest. What are you doing here, anyway?" Jude asked with a surprised tone, expecting the answer to be work-related.

"I've been looking for you," Kwest replied bluntly.

"Excuse me?" Jude asked, the puzzlement filling her voice and eyes.

"I've come to see you, and hopefully convince you to come home." Kwest answered confidently, leaving Jude reeling at his declaration.


	9. Chapter Eight

**A/N:** Hi! First, I'd like to take this opportunity to thank you all for reading this story:)

I did notice there was a lack of reviews on the last chapter and I was hoping that wasn't because you all hated it!! Hate it or love it, please let me know what you're thinking. That's the only way I can improve, right?

Anyway, thanks again for even taking the time to read this. :)

* * *

Chapter Eight: 

Jude bolted up, her chair catapulting backwards as she stood.

"What?" Jude yelled in shock.

"I want you to come home. We all do," Kwest commented, instantly regretting the use of the word "all".

Jude scoffed, thinking that the "all" Kwest had mentioned couldn't possibly include her estranged husband. "I'm sure that's not true," she mumbled, as she pulled her chair back to the table and sat down.

"Actually, it's more true than you think," Kwest pushed, but he could see by the stubbornness on her face that this was not the way to approach things. He instantly changed gears, deciding that if he was going to get anywhere with her, he'd have to use his secret weapon.

"Sadie is anxious to see you. Especially now…" he trailed off, unsure of whether to mention the pregnancy. He'd seen how painful the loss of Jude's baby had been for her. She had completely closed off from everyone, and he could see that she still was.

The worry hit Jude fiercely as Kwest mentioned her sister. "What do you mean 'especially now'? Is something wrong?"

"No, no!" Kwest clarified immediately, reading the panic on Jude's face. "Actually, she's…pregnant."

The shock was clear on Jude's face. She couldn't help it. She knew she should have expected this since her sister always wanted a family. But she still couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions at the announcement. She felt joy for Kwest and Sadie's news, but also sorrow at the cutting, horrible reminder that her little girl would have been two if she were still alive.

She looked up into Kwest's expectant, nervous eyes and gave him a tremulous smile. "Congratulations. Tell Sadie I'm happy for you both," she murmured, looking away from Kwest and shuffling the papers she and Speed had been working on.

"Why don't you tell her yourself?" Kwest suggested gently. "She misses you. I miss you. Please, Jude," he pleaded hopefully.

"I can't, Kwest… I just… I can't. And even if I could, I'm working with SME for the next few weeks here. And then I'm headed home."

"We could work in Toronto for the two weeks," Speed instantly piped in. "Nothing's set in stone about us working here, in this office. They do have a BlackStar office in Toronto, and I'm sure we could use it instead." Jude turned her head to glare at him in betrayal. She felt like they were ganging up on her.

"And you could all stay with me and Sadie. We bought a big, new mansion when we found out about the baby. We have lots of spare room."

It wasn't just her friends that were turning against her. Her own thoughts, and her cracked and broken heart, were urging her to go home. Her mind kept returning to how wonderful it would be to see Sadie again. To hug her sister and feel like part of a family again. And what about her dad? She didn't even know if he was still in Toronto.

Before she could stop herself, the question spilled out of her mouth. "Is my dad still in Toronto?"

Kwest smiled. "Yep. Actually, he and Yvonne married and they don't live too far from Sadie and me. Your dad got a promotion and is out of town on business a lot. But he still asks us every time we see him whether we've heard from you or not."

Jude felt the guilt pressing down on her. Also, the yearning to see her Dad was overpowering. They had had such a close relationship, he must have been so hurt when she left two years ago without so much as a goodbye.

Going home sounded so…good. But before she got swept up in all the reasons she wanted to go home, the truth of why she left reared its ugly head.

Tommy. The words he'd spoken. She could never forget why she'd had to leave.

She was done with Toronto. She couldn't make a life there. Not where _he_ lived.

Kwest could see her pondering her options, and as her expression turned into a sad frown, he knew her thoughts had shifted to Tommy.

"Before you ask, yes, Tommy still lives in Toronto. Still works at G-Major. And I will warn you, because you're my sister-in-law, that he's still a fucked up mess. Worse, actually."

Oh dear. Could she go back and witness that? Deal with all of that again? She thought by moving to a different country, with a new identity, that she could finally avoid all the drama that being in Tommy's orbit brought with it.

But then again, she thought as she looked down at the gleaming gold band, she had chosen to be in his orbit. She'd thought she'd be in it forever.

"I can't… I can't face him…" she whispered, her voice rough with emotion.

Kwest shot a look at Speed, hoping for some help. Speed leaned forward, taking Jude's left hand in his.

"Look, dude. You need to deal with him. With **this**." Speed held her left hand up to show off the ring she still wore. "For once and for all, you need to deal with your past so that you can move on." Jude sighed, seeing the obvious truth in his words. "I'll be with you every step of the way. I'll never leave your side if you don't want me to," Speed added, trying to coax her into making the choice to go home.

The last thing Speed really wanted was to force Jude to see Tommy again. But she needed to. If she still loved him, then she needed to be with him. And if she needed closure, then she needed to end things for good. Whatever she did, she couldn't live in limbo any longer. She couldn't live any more pretending to be "Noelle Harris", rejecting everything that was important to her because of what had gone on with Tommy. He may not have gotten much out of his experience with Karma, but he did learn the importance of letting go.

Kwest and Speed both stared at her, watching her as she processed everything they had said to her. They simultaneously held their breath as she opened her mouth, ready to reveal her choice.

* * *

Kwest crept into the bedroom he shared with Sadie, happy to see that she was sound asleep. He removed his clothes quickly and slid in beside her, trying his best not to disturb her. The flight home had been long, plagued with a couple delays, and he couldn't wait to curl up next to his wife and fall asleep. 

As he settled into the comfortable bed, Sadie turned over, nestling into his side. "You're home," she mumbled, still mostly sleeping.

"I am," he whispered. "Go back to sleep."

"Where's my present?" she muttered lowly. Kwest had to restrain his laughter. Only Sadie would remember in her sleep that he'd promised her a gift. "Tomorrow, babe. I promise," he whispered, and he heard silence in return. Her breathing deepened and he knew she had fallen back to sleep. He closed his own eyes, and his exhausted body only took minutes to fall into a peaceful sleep.

* * *

Had she made a huge mistake? Jude kept asking herself this question over and over again. What had brought her here? 

It was 3:30 am and she was standing in front of G-Major, just staring at the place she used to call her 'home away from home.'

"Going in?" Speed asked, standing beside her, much less in awe of the place than Jude obviously was.

She looked away from him, wondering just how big of a mistake she had made coming back to Toronto. She guessed she would find out soon enough.

She had told Kwest and Speed that she would return home for two weeks, and that she wasn't promising anything. But now she wasn't even sure if she'd make it through one day.

As soon as they'd arrived at Kwest and Sadie's, Kwest had begun to head up to wake Sadie. Jude had insisted he let her sister sleep. It was 3:00 am, after all. Kyle and Wally had headed for their rooms, drained from the flight. Those two were still a lot like little kids and they needed their sleep. Kwest had mentioned, in passing, that Jude's '67 Mustang was still in the garage. Her eyes had immediately lit up as she'd inquired where the keys were. Kwest had sleepily answered that they were in the kitchen, hanging with the rest of the keys. He'd given Jude a house key and explained about the alarm system, and then he led Jude and Speed to their respective rooms and headed to bed himself. Only minutes later, Jude had reemerged from her room and headed down the stairs to the kitchen, grabbing the familiar keys from the hook. They hadn't even changed the keychain.

She'd locked the door behind her, rushing out to the garage. And she'd almost had a heart attack when she'd seen Spiederman leaning against the car, waiting for her.

He laughed at her shocked expression. "What? Did you forget I know you better than you know yourself, dude?" He continued laughing as Jude unlocked the car to let them in.

They'd settled into the seats, and Jude looked around her, running her hand across the familiar seats and then the dashboard. She had missed this car.

"If you're done fondling the car, you mind telling me where are we off to?" Speed has asked.

She rolled her eyes at Speed's crude attempt at humor and shrugged her shoulders, honestly not sure. She just knew she couldn't sleep. And driving in her car had always been a source of freedom and relaxation for her.

She had driven away from Kwest and Sadie's home, the car practically driving itself as it lead her to the building housing the familiar record label, where she'd spent her formative musical years. The building she now stood in front of, deciding if she was going to go in.

She could see that there were some lights on, although she'd checked the parking lot for any of Tommy's many cars before parking the Mustang. She knew he could have gotten a new car, but all the cars in the parking lot were far too practical, and definitely not flashy enough, for Tom Quincy's taste.

"Let's go," she whispered to Speed, leading the way up the stairs. She reached for the door handle but it was locked. And then she remember that to get into the building this late, you needed to be an employee of G-Major. She looked down at her key chain, which still had her old key card on it. She swiped it, figuring it was worth a try. And to her complete disbelief, it actually still worked.

She shot a stunned look at Speed as she pushed the door open. The lobby was deserted and she stepped tentatively further into the building. She felt like she was trespassing, that the police would pop out any minute and tell her she didn't belong here.

She was amazed at how little about the building had changed in the two years she'd been gone. The paint, the arrangements of desks, everything was the same. In some ways, she felt as if she'd never left.

The sound of someone whistling broke through her thoughts and she stopped moving, frozen in place. That whistling was all too familiar. A sound she'd heard her entire life.

Jamie turned around the corner into the lobby, his step faltering when he saw the woman standing in front of him. His whistling halted and he stood absolutely still, just staring at her.

It couldn't be. After all this time.

"Jude?" he asked weakly, as if he was afraid that she wasn't actually here.

Jude sucked in a deep breath at the sight of her old friend. "Jamie," she said simply, quietly. And before she could say anything else, he ran forward picking her up in a firm hug. He held her tightly, afraid that if he let her go she'd slip through his fingertips. And he couldn't let that happen again. He'd missed her too much.

"Jamie… I can't breathe," she whispered finally, a touch of laughter in her voice, and he was forced to let go. He kept a hold of her hand, though, still in disbelief that she was actually here.

"Where the hell have you been?" Jamie asked, a glint of hurt showing in his vulnerable eyes. She looked over at Speed, indicating without words that she needed some time alone with Jamie. Message received, Speed trailed off, beginning to explore his old workplace again.

In Jude's life, there were only three people who could affect her so deeply that her soul actually ached for them: Tommy, her Dad, and Jamie. And the look of sadness and hurt reflecting in Jamie's eyes broke her heart.

And for the first time in two years, it hit her that the impact of her flight from Toronto affected a lot more people than just her and Tommy. The selfishness of her choice hadn't been so evident when she was far away from the people she loved. But looking in Jamie's eyes, she realized just how incredibly selfish she had been.

"I'm so sorry…" she whispered, the tears swimming behind her eyes. She grabbed onto Jamie and hugged him again. "I'm so damn sorry," was all she could say.

"You know," he whispered, "when you left without a word, I wanted to hate you. And I really should still be mad at you. But I simply can't do it. I'm just so glad you're here." She released herself from his grasp to look at him. She could feel part of the barrier around her heart beginning to crack.

This wasn't good. If she planned on leaving again, she couldn't let herself feel like this again.

But then again, with Jamie standing in front of her, tears behind his own eyes, how could she not. This was her best friend, who cared about her unconditionally. A man she had hurt more than he had deserved, and yet who still couldn't even stand to stay mad at her.

"I'm glad to see you, too. I've missed you," Jude said, wiping a tear away that had begun to slide down her cheek. For two years she hadn't allowed herself to cry. And now, within two days, she had cried twice. What was happening to her?

"Are you back to stay?"

She should have said no. Absolutely not. Two weeks and she was leaving, going back to a life where she could live in absolute anonymity. But for some reason she couldn't say that to him. "I'm honestly not sure."

Jamie sighed, knowing he'd have to accept that answer for now.

Speed sauntered back into the lobby tentatively, not wanting to interrupt the moment. It was Jamie who turned to him. "My best friend and Vincent Spiederman back all in one day?"

Speed walked forward, hugging his old friend and ex-manager. "It's actually a very weird turn of events."

Jamie eyed them both curiously, and he caught Jude yawning widely. "Which will all have to be explained tomorrow. You look exhausted, Jude."

"I guess the craziness of the day has just started to hit me," she commented, yawning again.

"Well, I'll let you go if you promise me you'll explain _everything_."

Jude honestly didn't want to go through everything again. Telling Speed had drained her emotionally. But as she peered into her friend's eyes, she knew she owed it to him. Owed him some sort of explanation, anyway. "Alright, I promise."

"Meet me tomorrow for lunch, okay?"

Jude nodded, hugging Jamie once more before heading for the exit, Speed following closely behind.

"Give me the keys, dude."

Jude couldn't stop yawning. But that didn't mean she wanted anyone else driving her car. God, she thought pensively, she sounded like Quincy. Why was it the moment she arrived in Toronto, he was the only thing she could think of??

Acknowledging that she really shouldn't be driving, she dropped the keys in Speed's palm and jumped into the passenger seat, leaning her tired head against the window. She mused silently that after the last few days, she couldn't even imagine what the next day would bring…

* * *

Jude's eyes fluttered open, and she took in her unfamiliar, undecorated surroundings. The next thing that hit her was how uncomfortable she was. She looked down at her body, which was still clothed in the outfit she'd worn the day before. She noticed a note on the bedside table and reached for it. 

_Hope you had a nice sleep. By the way, I think you need to gain some weight. Carrying you should be a little more difficult than that._

_Speed_

She couldn't help but laugh out loud. Only Speed would leave such a ridiculous note.

She must have fallen asleep in her Mustang last night on the way home. Oh well, at least it didn't sound like Speed had too much trouble getting her in the house.

She swung her legs out of the bed, and walked over to her suitcase. She rummaged through it, picking out a pair of jeans and an old Ramones t-shirt, before heading to the bathroom to get showered and changed.

As she crossed the hall to the bathroom, she heard a lot of noise and laughter downstairs. She could pick out her sister's high-pitched laughter instantly. She felt a tug to go directly downstairs, but she continued to the bathroom, needing a few minutes to wake up, freshen up, and collect herself before seeing Sadie.

After seeing Jamie last night, she couldn't stop the feelings of guilt washing over her. And if anyone had the right to be angry, it was Sadie. She certainly didn't deserve to be abandoned by her own sister.

After lingering for twenty minutes in the bathroom, she finally made her down the stairs. She took every step slowly, afraid of falling in her nervousness.

She was too lost in her own thoughts to concentrate on the fact that the boisterous laughter had stopped. In fact, there was now only muted conversation, and Kwest's anxious voice saying to someone,_ "Thanks for stopping by. I'll see you later,"_ in an extremely dismissive tone.

But Jude didn't notice any of that. If she had, she could have avoided walking into her worst nightmare. She could have avoided walking into that living room at that exact moment.

Because when she turned into the room, she knocked right into the chest of a departing Tommy Quincy.


	10. Chapter Nine

**A/N**: Thank you all so much for your comments. I adore reading them, and seeing your response to the story. Please keeping them coming. :)

* * *

Chapter Nine: 

As Jude rounded the corner of the stairs to make her way to the living room, the surprise of pummeling straight into a rock hard chest forced her eyes closed instinctively to protect against the blow, and left her small frame a bit unsteady. But as the familiar scent of Tom Quincy hit her, she felt her equilibrium shift completely and she struggled against her traitorous legs to remain standing. Her body weakened and her breath caught in her throat and she hadn't even opened her eyes to look at him yet. She didn't have to. Even though she hadn't seen him for two years, her eyes had looked upon that body so many times, memorized every single inch, that even with her eyes closed she could see him clearly.

She backed up reflexively, her eyes still squeezed shut tightly. Her legs beginning to falter beneath her until a pair of strong hands grabbed her arms and kept her from falling. Soft, familiar hands. Hands that had explored her body so intimately that the touch of them made her feel even more disoriented.

The sound of Sadie screaming compelled Jude's eyes open, and she caught a glimpse out of the corner of her eye of Kwest ushering her shocked sister out of the room quickly, whispering something about 'reuniting later'. But her full attention was on the man standing directly in front of her. The undeniably gorgeous man who had won her heart years ago and had never given it back.

His hands were still firmly on upper arms, her whole body tingling in response to his touch. She felt herself beginning to melt, just like she always had every time she was near him. And she had to make it stop. Things were much different now, and she couldn't fall back into the old familiar pattern.

She shrugged him off, beginning to spin around, her thoughts on flight and putting as much distance between them as possible. She wasn't prepared for this.

But as quickly as she made the decision to run, his arm was back on hers, restraining her.

"Not so fast," he murmured, his tantalizing voice still like a shot of heroin to her system. "You're not going to run away from me this time," he commented, more venom in his voice than he had intended. He winced internally at the harsh sound of his own voice.

She spun back around, throwing off his arm angrily. "What the hell do you think you're doing!?" she yelled, moving toward him, pushing her finger into his chest roughly. As she got a little closer to him, she noticed the distinct smell of alcohol on his breath. It wasn't strong but it was lingering, meaning that he'd probably just recovered from a brutal hangover. The smell of alcohol was an unwelcome reminder of all the pain she had felt the night she left Toronto. Tears threatened as she was hit with memories of the pain inflicted by the very man who had promised to love her forever. The very man standing in front of her now.

She let her hand fall to her side. "Well, it's nice to know that some things never change. Still hitting the bottle as hard as ever, are we?" Her voice was softer but the anger and bitterness surged through her words.

Hurt flashed in his eyes momentarily before being replaced by fury. "You're right, some things do never change. Like the fact that you're still so quick to pass judgments and lay blame."

She felt suckerpunched by those words, as if all the air had escaped from her. She couldn't even form a response but could only glare at him as he continued his tirade against her.

"Never taking responsibility for your own actions, but so quick to criticize. So quick to run away. You know what that makes you, Jude? A coward. In fact, you're the biggest coward I've ever known!" He yelled, unable to control the ire rising in him.

Jude felt her resolve to stay calm slipping, as she launched into the fight she had promised herself they would never have. "Don't you DARE call me a coward!! I was **here**!! Everyday I sat at home while you were God knows where with God knows who!!!" She was screaming, and her heart was racing, matching the adrenaline pumping through her system. A small voice inside of her screamed back at her to get herself under control, but it was hard to calm down when all she wanted to do was throttle this man who once meant everything to her. Still, this screaming match wasn't solving anything. She continued speaking, but she forced her voice into a normal speaking tone, but with only a little less venom. "I might have left but you were gone long before me." She strode past him into the living room, wanting to leave this argument behind her.

Tommy could feel his anger rising to a breaking pointand did nothing to stop it. Instead he followed right behind her, not willing to back down from the argument or let her words go unchallenged. "You were _here_?!?" he scoffed. "You were anything but here!" He sniped angrily. "You weren't anything. You didn't _feel_ anything!!"

Her eyes blazed with rage at his accusation. A claim that mirrored far too closely some of the things he'd said that fateful night. Even through her anger, she couldn't help feeling the smallest measure of relief that, at the very least, he hadn't repeated his assertion that she was at fault for Chloe's death. Having any of the torturous words from that night repeated was hard enough, but that was the **one** thing she couldn't bear hearing from his lips again. "How dare you tell me what I felt? As if you would know how I felt about my own daughter!!" She could hear her voice breaking at the mention of Chloe. She cursed her weakness, the show of vulnerability that she desperately didn't want Tommy to see. "You should have understood!" she cried, gesturing violently in his direction. "**You** out of ALL people. But _surprise, surprise_," she remarked, her voice full of sarcasm, "you didn't."

His anger cleared instantly at the mention of their daughter. And as the fog of his anger cleared, he could see the further damage he was doing. He opened his mouth, trying to find the words that would make things right. But there were none.

"Don't tell me that part of you wasn't glad to be rid of me." Her voice was quiet, and a tear she hadn't wanted to shed slid down her face. Tommy shook his head furiously and took a step closer to her, completely appalled at her blasphemous statement. "No," he managed to whisper, reaching up instinctively to wipe the tear away.

She recoiled from his attempt to touch her. "Don't touch me. EVER again," she seethed through her teeth. "You lost _any_ right to touch me a long time ago." More tears continued to fall unheeded and Jude angled her body away from him.

At that exact instant, Speed stomped down the stairs and raced into the room, still dressed in the sweatpants and t-shirt he'd slept in. He'd woken to the sound of Jude yelling. He'd thought this was odd but wondered if she and Sadie had gotten into an argument already. After all, those two didn't always get along and when they weren't, well the Harrison sisters were well-known for some pretty outrageous fights. But when he'd heard Tommy's deep voice, he knew that there was trouble. And as much as he knew Jude needed to face her past, he also couldn't stand for her to be hurt anymore, especially not by Lord Squinty Frown Quincy. Without giving it a second thought, he'd jumped out of bed, planning to jump to Jude's rescue if she wanted him to.

As soon as he walked in, he surveyed the room, noticing Jude's shaking form and Tommy's apologetic face.

Tommy's eyes shot to the door as Speed entered, and his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Speiderman?"

Speed ignored Tommy's surprise, instead bolting directly to Jude's side. "Are you okay?" he whispered, grabbing a hold of one of her shaking hands.

"Get rid of him," she whispered, her voice quivering and barely audible.

He nodded, and glanced towards Tommy who was beginning to approach Jude. He shot Tommy a warning glance, feeling his own anger bubbling at the way this man always managed to crush Jude. "You need to go."

Tommy's anger began to resurface at Speed's interference. "Speed, this is none of your business! Jude and I need to talk." Tommy walked closer to Jude, who was still facing away from him. He reached for her shoulder, but Speiderman interjected himself between them. "You need to go," he reiterated, more firmly.

Tommy closed his eyes against this newest irritation and sighed heavily, mulling his options. Speed clearly wasn't going to get out of the way and Jude wouldn't even turn around to look at him. If he throttled Speiderman like he was tempted to do, Jude would probably never speak to him again, not to mention Sadie would kill him if he got blood on her carpet. But they needed to talk. Not seeing any other choice but to go, he thew up his arms and nearly growled, "Fine, that's just fine. I'll leave if that's what you want," and began to walk towards the door. He looked over his shoulder, trying to make eye contact with Jude as he left. Their eyes locked briefly, the misery in Jude's almost sending Tommy to his knees, before she looked away. "But, we're not done. We _will_ talk."

Jude heard the door slam, and she exhaled deeply. He was gone. She could breathe again. She marveled at the ability he still had to make her feel such intense love and hate all at the same time.

Speed lifted his hand and gently wiped her tears away, his tenderness only making her cry harder. Speed pulled her into his arms and for the second time in two days she found solace in her old friend's comforting embrace. Only this time, the one thought that kept running through her mind was that she should never have come back. As much as she realized that she had been unfair to Jamie and Sadie and her dad by staying away so long, she couldn't handle how Tommy Quincy still affected her. How he would no doubt _always_ affect her. She also couldn't stand to hear the painful words that spewed from his mouth, the way he seemed to go out of his way to hurt her. And the worst part was that even after two years, he could still cut into her very heart with the spiteful words he spoke.

* * *

A few minutes later, as Jude felt the shock and distress of her encounter with Tommy subsiding a little, she heard Sadie yelling in the kitchen. Suddenly her sister burst through the living room door. Jude watched as Sadie took in the scene in front of her, and she could see confusion pass over her sister's features. No doubt Sadie was wondering where her extra houseguests had come from. 

"Would somebody tell me what the hell is going on?" Sadie asked, clearly annoyed. She gently rubbed her large belly with both of her hands, clearly trying to calm herself down.

It was such a Sadie thing to say. No greeting, just cut right to the heart of the matter. And with that one simple statement, so familiar, so reminiscent of the many years she'd shared with her sister, Jude could almost hear the walls around her crack even further. Her broken heart surged with love for her sister, who looked undeniably pissed standing in the doorway. She pulled away from Speed, inching herself slowly closer to Sadie. She could feel Sadie's reluctance, exemplified in the stiffness of her body; Jude knew that she was no doubt still angry about her little disappearing act. She forced herself to look straight into Sadie's furious eyes. Fury that was covering layers of worry that only a big sister could feel.

"Hey big sister," she said quietly, eyeing her cautiously. She could see Sadie trying hard to keep the frown on her face. She knew Sadie would want to make her pay for at least a few hours. But Jude could already see the small smile forming on her sister's lips.

Sadie really did want to stay mad at Jude. She had fretted for two years about Jude's whereabouts, and whether she was okay. And one day she just shows up? How did Jude expect her to feel?? Kwest hadn't told her much while they were hiding from Tom and Jude's argument, just that Jude was her 'surprise'. She hadn't made up her mind yet on whether she was going to kiss or kill her husband. For now, she had to find out what exactly was going on, and where the hell her sister had been. She took a deep breath, feeling the baby kick furiously. And that's all it took for her anger to subside. That's all it took for her to remember the hell her sister had gone through over two years ago when she'd lost her own child. So, while she was still mad at Jude for her own reasons, she decided to give her sister a break. Because if anything ever happened to the little baby she was carrying, she knew she'd go insane. She figured maybe her little sister deserved a reprieve from her anger after all.

Jude watched her sister, knowing Sadie well enough to comprehend that she was thinking about how to react to everything. Her attention, however, was soon drawn to the stomach her sister kept caressing. She felt a twinge of sadness; she remembered _exactly_ what it felt like at seven months pregnant. She had been so happy at that stage. After finally having gotten over feeling ill, she was ready to enjoy the last two months of her pregnancy. She shuddered, trying to force her mind off of thoughts of her pregnancy because she knew undoubtedly where that train of thought would go.

Sadie looked up and reached for her, pulling her as close as her swollen body would allow. Jude felt suddenly suffocated by the feel of Sadie's stomach against her; the feel of her pregnant belly so close was just… wrong. As Sadie forced her closer, she felt the baby kicking inside Sadie's stomach, the feeling so strong it reverberated onto her own stomach. With that little kick, Jude felt like someone had taken a baseball bat to her stomach. It was all too familiar. Except it wasn't her baby. She'd never feel her baby do that again.

This was a mistake. How was she ever going to survive this? First Tommy, and now all these painful reminders of Chloe? She felt like she was going to break into a million little pieces. It was all just… too much.

Sadie finally released her, and Jude stumbled back, sure she was going to be sick. She felt Spied's supporting arm on her back. "You okay?" he whispered in her ear, his eyes full of concern as he forced her to look at him.

She nodded unconvincingly, turning back to Sadie.

"It's good to see you, Jude. Really good," Sadie said, sitting herself down on the couch. Kwest quietly re-entered the room and sat down beside Sadie, not wanting to interrupt the conversation.

Jude collapsed onto a loveseat across from the couch, desperate to take advantage of the chance to sit down. She was still trying to catch her breath.

Sadie started to interrogate her about where she had been, and luckily Jude had enough control of her wits to answer her questions mindlessly. Her real focus was pondering what the hell she was going to do now. And wondering how she could get back to LA before the two weeks were up. Maybe if she and SME worked really hard, they would only take a week to finish. Or maybe she wouldn't go back to LA at all. Maybe she would just run away. She'd always wanted to explore Europe, just get lost in the wonderful, overwhelming sights of old cathedrals and beautiful artwork.

Her eyes absently glanced towards the clock, and she realized suddenly that she had promised to meet Jamie for lunch. Which she was going to be late for.

She jumped up, glad to have a reason to escape the barrage of questions her sister had. She also needed to get away from the unfair jealousy she was developing towards Sadie every time she saw her sister loving touch her belly. It wasn't Sadie's fault and she knew it. But that didn't help the way she felt. "I've got to get going," she announced. "I'm meeting Jamie for lunch. I wouldn't go but I promised him…" She averted her eyes, not able to look at her sister when she lied to her. The truth was she needed to get out of there. For everyone's best interest.

"Okay," Sadie conceded, clearly unhappy at her sister's quick departure. They'd barely even begun to catch up. But she sensed the uneasiness and knew the best thing was just to let her go. "We'll continue this later."

Jude nodded, leaning down to give Sadie a quick peck on the cheek before almost running out the door.

Sadie watched her go, her worries about her younger sister only magnified now that she had finally seen her after all this time. "Well, she's definitely not okay," she commented to Kwest and Spied, who were also thinking about what had just happened.

"No. It gets worse than what she even managed to tell you. She doesn't go by Jude Harrison or Jude Quincy anymore. She says she's 'Noelle Harris'. And she doesn't sing," Speed added, noticing Sadie's immediate shock at the last statement.

"What?? That's ridiculous. All my sister has **ever** wanted to do is sing."

"Well, not anymore. And I think Quincy has a lot to do with that," Speed remarked bitterly.

"I think Quincy has a lot to do with everything Jude does," Sadie observed. "Their argument was painful to listen to and I wasn't even in the same room."

"I know," Kwest piped in. "That guy is my best friend and I wanted to smack him across the face. For two years he's missed her and wanted her to come back. And that's how he treats her when she does?? Jude's going to wish I never came to find her. I'm sure she already does."

The three of them fell into silence, all of them wondering what irreparable damage Tommy had done. No one could contest that the argument had been vicious and had gone both ways. But they all feared that if Jude ran away again, they would lose her for good the next time.

* * *

Jude pulled her Mustang into the parking lot behind G-Major, praying that she wouldn't see any shiny blue Vipers or black Porsches. She exhaled deeply as she scanned the parking lot, relieved to see that there was a complete absence of any cars that Quincy would buy. 

She jogged quickly towards the building, anxious to find Jamie and flee the vicinity of G-Major. She opened the glass doors tentatively, and smiled to herself when she didn't see anyone she recognized. She snuck by the temporary receptionist, who was busy flirting with a musician, and made a mad dash for the office she had seen Jamie come out of last night.

She was relieved when she saw his name etched on the door. She knocked lightly on the closed door and heard Jamie's familiar voice inviting her in.

But when she opened the door she saw that he wasn't alone.

"Jude Harrison!?!" With a mix of pleasure and shock in his booming voice, Darius Mills stood up and enclosed Jude in a bear hug.

"It's good to see you too, D," Jude said sincerely, trying to escape his tight grasp.

"Hey, I've got to go meet with an important client right now, but can you come in later and see me?" he asked, releasing Jude and smiling widely. Jude never could resist his infectious smile.

"I guess so. Is tomorrow okay? I've had a bit of a rough day today."

Darius's eyes shone with concern but he knew not to push. "Sure, tomorrow it is, rockstar." He turned towards Jamie, saying, "And we'll go over those artists later," before he swept out the door.

Jamie stood up quickly, hugging Jude tightly before he said anything. After two years of not having any physical contact with anyone, this constant hugging was starting to annoy her a little. But since Jamie was her best friend, she couldn't bear to take her frustration out on him.

Jamie let her go, grinning from ear to ear. He couldn't keep his happiness from shining through. His best friend was back, and suddenly everything seemed right with the world. "Ready for lunch?"

"Yep, I'm starving."

"As always," Jamie added, never able to forget how much his extremely petite friend ate. It was actually a little shocking at times.

"Ha. Ha," Jude commented sarcastically. As they walked quickly across the lobby, the briefest glance of a cowboy hat caught her attention in one of the sound booths. "Is that Mason?" she asked hopefully.

"It certainly is…" Before Jamie even finished the statement, Jude took off running, pulled the studio door open and charged into the booth where she promptly jumped into her shocked friend's arms. Jamie walked to the doorway, unable to control his laughter at the scene. When Mason finally realized just who was in his arms, he tightened his grip and swung Jude around, letting go with one hand long enough to place the cowboy hat on her head in homage to 'old times.'

"Maaaaaassseeee!!!" she squealed, laughing at how Mason always managed to bring the five year old in her out. And she needed that more than ever right now.

Mason laughed, feeling lighter than he had in a long time. Jude was finally here.

He released her, putting her back on her feet. And he watched as her expression changed instantly from one of complete joy to utter horror.

She had glanced to where his producer was sitting behind the soundboard. His producer, who also happened to be her husband. Tommy was staring, looking almost mesmerized, but not angry, at the sight in front of him.

She averted her eyes quickly and handed Mason his hat back. "I… uh… I gotta go. I'll see you later." Before Mason could say another word she ran out the door, grabbing Jamie's hand as she bolted for the exit.

* * *

"So… do you want to tell me what happened? Or do I have to pry it out of you?" Jamie asked, sitting across from Jude at one of their favorite childhood restaurants. Jude had been silent in the car on the way there, and for the ten minutes they'd been sitting in the restaurant. 

"I saw Tommy this morning, at Sadie and Kwest's. And we fought. Big surprise," she said simply, not in the mood to pour her heart out. She knew she had promised to tell him everything, but she was already drained from the day she'd had. She looked up, meeting her friend's concerned eyes. "Look, I know I said I'd tell you everything… and I will… but can it wait? I'm just… exhausted. And I just want to pretend for an afternoon that we're kids again. That I never won the Instant Star competition. That I never met Tom Quincy."

Jamie nodded, not questioning her any further. He could see the hurt and the vulnerability in his friend's eyes, and he wished he could fix it all for her. But he couldn't. What he could do was give her what she wanted – an afternoon of childish fun. And if it that offer her even one minute of happiness, then he would consider this afternoon a success.

* * *

Tommy slammed the front door behind him loudly, throwing his bag and leather jacket on the floor as he entered. 

He'd blown it. He knew it, and he wasn't sure there was anything he could do to fix it now.

He had gone over their fight a hundred times and every time he cringed at every spiteful word he had said. That certainly was not how he intended their first meeting to go. But once she made that comment about his drinking, it was like all of his anger rushed back and he couldn't gain control over himself and what he said. He didn't even know where those words came from. He had been angry at her for a long time about the way she'd silently, numbly handled their daughter's death. But it appeared that even he didn't know the depths of his own anger at her.

But it wasn't anger that he'd felt once he had gotten control of his emotions. It was love and shame at the way he'd spoken to her.

He'd hurt her. He had seen it written all over her face.

When he'd seen her with Mason this afternoon, his heart ached for her to look at him which such unadulterated joy. His heart had warmed momentarily when he'd noticed her rings flashing in the studio light. But the moment she'd seen him, the terror and pain that had filled her expression had shaken him to the core.

What was he going to do? He would be lucky if she'd even agree to be in the same room with him, let alone talk to him again.

He loved her. He had never stopped loving her. He never would stop.

The situation seemed so hopeless that there was only one thing he could think to do.

He walked purposefully towards the kitchen and, in his regular routine, grabbed a couple of bottles from the liquor cabinet. He automatically reached for a glass and placed it on the counter.

But as he lifted the bottle of vodka, he suddenly changed his mind. And instead of pouring the vodka into the empty, waiting glass, he overturned the bottle into the sink and washed the entire contents down the drain. He grabbed another bottle, and then another. And in less than an hour, he had emptied every single bottle in the house.

If there was a time to change, it was now. Because he knew he'd need all his wits about him if he was going to enter the fight of his life. The fight to make Jude love him again.


	11. Chapter Ten

**A/N:** Thank you all so much for your wonderful comments!! You guys are amazing. I really appreciate all the feedback! Thanks for being so patient with this story too. Life is a bit hectic but I'll do my best to update as much as possible. :) Thanks again!

* * *

Chapter Ten:

Jude walked quickly towards the garage, shivering as the early morning air hit her face. She bundled her sweater more tightly around her and jogged the rest of the distance to her car. She had forgotten just how cold mornings could be in Toronto.

Then again, when she lived in Toronto, she'd never gotten up this early for anything. As she pulled the Mustang onto the road, she glanced up at the sky, noticing that the sun was just rising above the horizon. Man, it really was early.

The clock on the dashboard read 6:45, but Jude mused to herself that she really didn't felt any conception of time that morning. That probably had something to do with the fact that she hadn't gotten more than 2 hours sleep all night. "Damn you, Tommy Quincy," she muttered under her breath as she directed her car towards G-Major. She had promised Darius she would stop in and see him, and this time on her excursion into her old studio she didn't plan on taking any chances of seeing Tommy. Her thoughts and emotions were so…jumbled when it came to Tommy. She hated him. She was resentful of him. She was angry at him. She more than half wanted to kill him. But she couldn't ignore the part of her that still felt that spark just being in the same room with him. Well, before he opened up his mouth and broke her heart all over again. Until she decided what she was going to do, she couldn't see him again. She'd been unprepared for the confrontation and she wasn't going to let that happen again.

With the complete lack of traffic this early on a Saturday morning, she made it to G-Major in record time. Just in case, she pulled into the back parking lot and examined the half-empty lot for any ridiculously expensive sports cars before getting out. But, then again, she hadn't seen any "Tommy-style" cars the previous day and he'd still managed to surprise her with his presence. She'd just have to be more careful this time.

She tip-toed in the back door and looked in every direction before moving any further into the building. When she was certain the coast was clear, she walked quickly towards Darius's office and, through the open door, saw him sitting behind his desk.

She raised her hand to knock lightly but Darius noticed the movement and looked in her direction. "Jude!!" he called excitedly, standing up and walking around his desk to greet her. He hugged her quickly, ushering her towards the seat in front of his desk. She couldn't sit there without thinking of the many times she'd sat in that exact spot over the years before she'd left. The chair where, sitting nervously beside an equally anxious Tommy, she'd waited for approval on her singles. In an almost subconscious move, Tommy had always squeezed her hand tightly right before and directly after the song had played. She had always felt so comforted by even the smallest gesture from him. As she pushed the thoughts of the past out of her mind, she couldn't help but feel disappointed in the turn her life had taken and the distance she now felt to that previous life.

"Hey D," Jude began, glancing quickly at her watch. She wanted to keep this short because she really had no idea when Tommy would be showing up.

"How are you?" D asked sincerely as he took his seat behind his desk.

"I'm okay," Jude answered vaguely, wanting to keep this meeting as cheery as possible. She just wanted to say hello to an old friend and leave. She'd made an appointment with SME at BlackStar at 9:00 so she'd have an excuse to escape if Darius prodded her too much about the past. She really did like D, but he had the habit of butting in where he didn't belong, most times because he thought he could help or that he knew what was better for you. Regardless, it was still damn annoying.

"So, how have things been with you?" Jude asked, trying to steer the conversation away from discussion of her life.

"Good, very good," Darius said, smiling. But a different, a more apprehensive look flashed on his face for an almost unnoticeable second before he stood up again. "Jude… there's something we need to talk about." He walked towards the open door and shut it tightly.

She could feel the butterflies in her stomach. Darius's fleeting look combined with shutting his door during a meeting – these were not good signs. They usually meant Darius knew he was about to give news that you might not like and he didn't want the rest of the studio to hear your ranting.

Jude could feel her hands shaking, unable to fathom what Darius would have to talk to her about that would upset her. She took a deep breath, waiting for D's deep voice to fill the room.

* * *

Tommy took the front steps two at a time, whistling as he quickly made his way into G-Major. There were a lot of things he noticed this morning that he never usually did, mostly because he never woke up before 10:00 and especially not sober. It was a beautiful morning. The cool, refreshing air blowing against his skin was invigorating. The Starbucks coffee in his hand tasted particularly good this morning because it wasn't washing away the remaining taste of alcohol or helping him to get over a hangover. And the last thing he perceived was a feeling rising up in him again. One he hadn't felt in a very long time. 

It was hope.

She was back, and even though she probably hated him after their encounter, in a miraculous turn of events she was back in his life. He had been afraid he'd never see her again. And although it seemed impossible that they would ever get back to the happy married couple they were, he just remembered that he'd thought it was impossible that she'd ever come back.

He felt revolutionized, like he couldn't wait to work, to create. He felt like the old Tommy Quincy, the one who'd been brave enough to pursue Jude Harrison over five years ago. He'd just have to channel that guy again if he planned on getting her back.

He swung the studio door open, finding Kwest behind the soundboard as usual. He wondered how much Kwest worked because he never arrived earlier than him, even if he arrived at the crack of dawn like he did this morning.

He saw Kwest turn his head, almost imperceptibly, and without acknowledging his presence, Kwest returned to his work. Kwest was pissed. And why wouldn't he be?

"Hey," Tommy said as he sat down in the seat next to his best friend.

"Just so we're clear, you're a jerk." That's what Tommy loved about Kwest. Even during the BoyzAttack days when people had been almost kissing the very ground he walked on, Kwest wouldn't mince his words.

"Believe me, I'm aware," Tommy commented, wincing slightly as memories of the previous day flashed through his mind. "But that's going to change. Everything's going to change."

Kwest laughed mockingly. "Oh, really?"

"Yes, actually."

"I'd love to know how you plan on accomplishing that miracle." Kwest's voice was rife with doubt.

"Specifics, I don't know. But the important part is that we're both here. I just need to get her to talk to me."

Kwest chuckled sardonically. "Good luck with that one."

"I wanted to talk to her yesterday, after the ridiculous fight, which I know was my fault. But Speiderman came to the rescue." This reminded Tommy of something he wanted to ask Kwest. "Do you know what the deal is with Vincent's re-emergence now? I mean he's acting like Jude's protector."

"From what I know, they randomly met up again just the other day."

"Yeah, well that _kid_ needs to mind his own business. I'm her _husband_," Tommy grumbled, beginning to set the soundboard up for Mason's session.

"Well, you suck at it. Be glad she has someone."

"She's not supposed to have _someone_. She's supposed to have me," he returned cockily. In his head, Tommy knew that statement was perhaps too much, considering their history. He didn't deserve to have her depending on him again. Not yet, anyway.

Kwest scoffed. "T, you've got to be kidding me. Right now, you'll be lucky if that girl even looks in your face again. We're lucky she didn't run off into the night again."

Panic filled Tommy instantly at the thought of Jude running away again. "You're sure she didn't run away, right?" Tommy asked, desperate to make sure that she was still in town.

Kwest's attention was caught by something in the lobby. He didn't answer, simply pointing towards the direction he was looking. Tommy's eyes followed and his heart did a somersault when he saw Jude rushing out of Darius's office, breaking into a run as she wiped tears off her face and headed quickly towards the exit.

Acting on instinct, he immediately shot out of his chair and ran after her. He arrived outside just in time to see her car peeling out of the parking lot.

Tommy's brow furrowed in puzzlement. What the hell just happened to make her so upset? He turned back into the building, heading for the one man who might have the answer to that question.

* * *

With one hand on the wheel, Jude reached into her purse for her cell phone. Her unsteady hand rummaged through the brown leather bag for a while before finally capturing the small phone. Keeping one eye on the road, she dialed Speiderman's number. 

He answered almost immediately. Before she even let him finish saying 'hello', Jude interrupted. "Tell me it's not true! Tell me he didn't do this to me. Or you." She could hear the frantic tone of her own voice and it frightened her. She was falling apart, piece by piece. Now she knew for certain that coming back had been a mistake. How could Darius do this to her.

"Jude, where are you?" Speid's concerned voice wafted through the phone.

"I'm on my way to BlackStar. This can't be true." The tears were clouding her eyes and she could barely keep track of the lines on the road. Other drivers began honking at her erratic driving.

"Jude, pull over!" Speid yelled, obviously hearing the commotion through the phone.

Jude could barely hear him over the pounding of her own heart. She could feel the sobs coming, the beginning of a complete breakdown.

Her head snapped up as a long, loud honk rang out. She was headed for the median in the middle of the highway.

She dropped the phone, quickly using both hands to furiously turn the steering wheel. Her tires screeched loudly and more drivers honked as she righted her car's position in the lane.

She couldn't breathe. As soon as possible, she pulled over to the side of the highway and collapsed back against the seat, the tears streaming freely down her face.

"JUDEEE!!!" She heard Speed yelling through the phone lying on the floor of the car. She reached down and lifted the phone to her ear.

"I'm here," she said quietly. "I pulled over. God, Speid, I almost ran straight into the median!!! What's happening to me?" Her voice cracked as she bawled into the phone. The tears fell more quickly as the realization of her near death sunk in, adding to her already panicked mind.

"Where are you? I'll get Kyle and Wally to drop me off so I can drive you home."

She looked up for any sign of where she had stopped. "I'm near the Kennedy exit of the 401, heading west."

"I'll be right there. Just hold on, okay?"

All she could do was nod, knowing very well that Speid wouldn't see her. She hung up the phone and dropped it on the seat next to her. Her mind couldn't help but flash back to her conversation with Darius.

_"I've got some news for you," he'd said, calmly. Too calmly. Jude had recognized immediately that he was nervous about her reaction._

_"Darius, what's going on?" She had asked, her __defenses__ beginning to rise._

_"I like you, Jude, so I'm not going to beat around the bush. You're still under contract here. __Kwest__ mentioned in passing the label he'd found you at in the States so I made a few calls. Once they heard you were under contract here for two albums, they officially ended your job there."_

She could still feel the shock and disbelief that had rushed through her with his words. She had tried to convince him that it was a bad idea, but he wouldn't listen.

_"Darius, this is ridiculous! I haven't worked here for two years."_

_"Your contract had no time clause, only number of albums. And you've got one that you were almost finished with before you left and another one to go."_

_Her heart had been pounding out of her chest and the tears had immediately sprung to her eyes. "Darius, I don't sing anymore. I can't do what you're asking."_

_"Jude, that's bull. You were born to sing. Your voice didn't just disappear." He had paused for a minute, thinking before he'd spoken again. "Look, because I care about you and I have sympathy for what you've been through, I'll only hold you to finishing the album you had already begun working on. There are already 8 songs completed, so that means you only have 4 more to go. Then, after that if you want to walk away, I'll let you. "She had thought he was finished when he added one more piece of news. "Oh, and SME is back too. __BlackStar__ offered for me to buy out the rest of their contract since you were going to be working with them. You can work with them here too; you can even produce them if you want to." She had instantly resented the way he'd said all of this like he was doing her a big favour and not ruining her life._

And that was when she had run out of his office. How could he do this? If he cared about her so much, why would he trap her into staying? And SME? After hearing Speid talk about Karma, it was clear he'd left for a reason. Now, his life was being affected because of her too.

She should never have come back. She should have sent the divorce papers, written Sadie a goodbye letter and left her life in Toronto in the past for good. Now she was stuck.

She closed her eyes as she laid her head back against the headrest. This was a mess, and she had no idea how it was possibly going to be cleaned up.

* * *

Tommy strode into Darius's office without knocking and approached the desk where Darius sat. "What the hell is going on?" 

"You're in awfully early this morning, T," Darius noted, looking up only briefly and ignoring Tommy's question completely.

"What the hell did you say to Jude? I saw her fly out of here." Tommy was trying to keep his temper under control but the thought of someone hurting Jude affected him in the deepest part of his soul. He knew he had no right to criticize anyone else's treatment of Jude after the mess he'd made with her, but it didn't stop him from feeling like he should punch Darius's light's out.

Darius stopped focusing on the papers in front of him and looked at Tommy. "Look, I guess I should tell you since you'll find out anyway. I made some calls and had Jude's contract with her current label terminated. And I _reminded_ her that she's still under contract here for one more disc. A disc that's almost complete, anyway."

Tommy collapsed in the chair below him. "So you forced her to stay?"

Darius nodded and Tommy could tell he was waiting for some kind of reaction. Honestly, he could barely believe his luck. He realized he should have been appalled at the underhanded move but Darius had gotten her to do something that he wasn't sure he'd be able to do. She was staying.

"Okay," Tommy said, accepting the news and thinking about the significance of the fact that she was now in town for good. Or at least for the duration of her contract. He stood up to head back to the studio when Darius's voice called his attention back.

"You know, when I called BlackStar Records about her contract, they said it was solely a song writing contract. And if that wasn't strange enough, Jude said this morning that she doesn't sing anymore," Darius stated, not adding any comment or additional judgment. Tommy could sense that it was just something D thought he should know.

Tommy acknowledged the comment with a nod and walked out of the office, not able to truly comprehend what Darius had said.

Was Jude really not singing? That was ridiculous. Her voice was an amazing gift that was certainly not meant to be wasted. But more than that, he knew better than anyone that singing was her outlet, the way she expressed her emotions. After a raging argument, Tommy always knew that the next day sitting behind the soundboard, he could expect to hear an angry, raging rock-style song. If she was sad, he knew it would be a slower, weepy ballad. But for her to just stop singing? He simply couldn't understand a world where Jude Quincy didn't sing. He knew that song writing was part of the cathartic process for her, but there was just as much therapy in the actual expression of the song. The idea of Jude writing for others but not herself was unfathomable to him.

As he returned to the studio, he mentally added it to the growing list of mysteries surrounding her and the problems he had to solve.

* * *

As Kyle pulled his car up behind Jude's Mustang, Speid wondered at the condition of the fragile woman he'd find inside. She hadn't sounded good at all on the phone and he knew that if she hadn't gotten off the road when she did, a car crash would have been inevitable. 

He told Kyle and Wally to meet him back at Sadie and Kwest's, that they would sort the band stuff out later. Kyle nodded in complete understanding before driving off. Speid knew that for all three of the SME members, Jude's mental well-being was far more important than any band or label issue.

Speed approached the driver's side carefully. Jude was leaning back, her eyes closed, but she looked anything but relaxed. He could see the torment she was experiencing written on her face.

He tapped on the glass softly, not wanting to frighten her. She opened her eyes and shot him a weak half-smile. He carefully opened the door, helping her out and walking her around the front of the car to the passenger seat. When they were both settled in the car, he turned towards her.

She was weak, her eyes bloodshot. The dark circles under her eyes attested to the fact that she hadn't been sleeping well since their return. Although, he suspected that lack of sleep was not a new problem.

"Dude," he began, using the nickname he'd affectionately given her when they were teenagers, "first of all, I know exactly what you're thinking. I'm okay being back in Toronto, at G-Major. I'm over Karma and I'm ready to come back home. So I want you to wipe whatever guilt you're feeling about me, Wally and Kyle away." He paused, noting a slight lessening of her frown. "Second, you can do this. Just because Tommy's here doesn't mean that you can't be. You've got me, Kyle, Wally, Jamie, Sadie and Kwest. And probably even Darius if you haven't already murdered him. And you know any one of us will protect you without question. From _anyone_.

"How did you find out about being sold back to G-Major?"

"When we showed up to practice before you showed up, we couldn't get into the building with our security passes and a very scary security guard told us to get lost. I phoned John and he broke the news."

"I just… I don't even know what to think. I mean, I know what you're saying is true. This is my home. Where I grew up. Where my family is. But it's also where Tommy is. It's where Chloe died. There's a lot of baggage and agony that comes along with staying here. And I'm not sure that I am strong enough to deal with all of it. Besides the fact that I have to finish an album I started over 2 years ago when I don't even sing anymore. It's a disaster." Her loud sigh filled the car, and she buried her head in her hands. Speed patted her back lightly, unsure of what more he could possibly do to help her, other than just be there for her when she needed him.

"Look, just take things one day at a time. As far as the singing, it will come. And Darius didn't put any time stipulation on the album, did he?"

"No."

"Well, then just take it slowly. And remember that he needs you, not the other way around. So, demand what you want. Because I'm assuming that you won't want… you know… your _regular_ producer."

Her head snapped up and the horror was evident on her face. "God, no."

"Well, if he's trapped you into doing this, make your terms known. Bring back feisty, Jude."

He could see a small smile forming on her lips. "I miss feisty Jude," she stated simply, her voice full of nostalgia.

"So, find her. I know she's still there somewhere."

"I hope so. Because I'm going to need her to get through this." She sighed loudly, turning her head to look out the window. Speed started the car and began to drive, giving her some time to think. She was going to be facing living in Toronto again and working at G-Major. He was determined to make sure she knew that, although it was a lot, she was never, ever, going to be alone.

* * *

When they arrived back at Sadie and Kwest's, she was in no mood for company. There's only so much one person can deal with in one day and she'd reached the brink. She just needed some time to think and digest all that had happened in the span of one morning. She excused herself from SME, jogging up the stairs and locking herself in the bedroom she was staying in. 

She flopped heavily onto the bed, closing her eyes. She had a lot to think about. Leaving town was no longer an option, at least not for a while. So, she had to find a way to cope with being here, in the same city as Tommy. She had to admit, after talking to Speid she had begun to see the positives in staying. She was going to be close to her family and friends again. Although, that would be an adjustment after being alone for so long, she felt comforted by thought.

Singing again was, undoubtedly, going to be difficult. After Chloe died, that part of her did too. The part of her that came out when she sang, the part that felt and expressed emotions so freely, it had long closed off. Singing again was going to be like ripping off a scab before it had healed.

There was no doubt in her mind at all, however, that running into Tommy constantly was going to be the hardest part. There was so much history, so much anger and bitterness, and maybe even a bit of left-over caring somewhere deep inside, that her feelings were just so… complicated when it came to him.

She knew there was only one thing left to do, only one way to resolve things.

She sat up, digging through her purse for her phone. She opened the phone and took a deep breath before dialing.


	12. Chapter Eleven

**A/N**: Thank you SO much for all the wonderful feedback! You guys are amazing. I really appreciate each and every comment. It really inspires me to keep writing. So, please continue to read and review! Thanks so much:)

* * *

Chapter Eleven: 

Three days later, Jude had slowly begun to become accustomed to the idea of staying in Toronto. She had called Mike in LA who had graciously agreed to ship all of her stuff back home. She had also begun looking for an apartment of her own, knowing that she couldn't stay at Sadie and Kwest's for too much longer, especially with the baby coming. It wasn't their fault, but being around her pregnant sister was far from easy. It started a succession of memories in her brain that she wasn't ready to confront. Not yet.

Another confrontation she was dreading was the inevitable one with her estranged husband. She'd managed to avoid Tommy altogether, but she knew she couldn't do that for much longer. It wasn't realistic, especially when he kept inundating her phone with messages. She had needed a few days to get things in order before talking to him. In fact, after running a few errands, she was now on the way to G-Major, prepared, in more ways than one, to see him.

She felt a pang in her heart as she pulled into the parking lot and saw the familiar Viper. So, he still had that damn car; it was the first time she'd seen it since she'd been back and she was hit by a wave of nostalgia just looking at it. She _loved_ that car, even now. After all, it wasn't the car's fault that her relationship with Tommy had crumbled to pieces.

She parked on the opposite side of the lot and rushed by the Viper as quickly as she could, not allowing her brain to focus on any of the many times she had ridden in that car. Or the other, more scandalous, things she and Tommy had done in that car.

She pushed the doors open, focusing on the two goals she'd set for herself for this visit to G-Major. Neither one of them would be easy, but both were necessary in order for her to maintain her sanity. A little later on today, she'd be meeting SME to start doing some work with them, but first, she needed to get these two things over with. Before she lost her nerve to do them at all.

She eyed Darius's door, figuring she'd tackle her discussion with him first. As she stood outside his door, she took a deep breath and channeled, as best as she could, the feisty Jude she used to be. And, before she could change her mind, she barged in D's office, without knocking, and marched straight up to his desk.

"Jude!" Darius looked up, clearly surprised to see her standing in front of his desk.

"I'm my own producer. No one hears my music until I'm ready for them to. I have complete control over my songs and if I need help I'll ask whomever I want to help me." She blurted out her demands, forcing her voice to be strong and her body to be still. She wouldn't show him that she was nervous. Actually, terrified was more like it.

Darius couldn't help but smile at the Jude who stood in front of him. It was the strong, determined Jude he remembered so well. The one who didn't pull any punches. The one he remembered and loved like she was his own daughter. He had known that no matter what happened to Jude, that part of her would always be there, and apparently so did Jude.

"Fine. But as usual, I get the last say on whether the song is good enough. Once you're ready to play it for me, of course."

"Okay," she conceded, prepared for that stipulation from Darius. "And one album. No more. And then I'm done singing. But if I like producing SME, I'll stay on in that role."

Darius nodded in agreement and watched as Jude turned on her heels and strode confidently out of his office. He had to admit he was glad she didn't hate him, not that he would have blamed her if she did. He couldn't help but laugh at the little scene that had just played out. He didn't claim to know everything, but there were a few things he was sure about. One, music wasn't just about music. You always had to think about the financial aspect, and he was good at that part. So, if anyone asked, that's exactly what he had done with Jude. A cold, calculating business move. But, there was something else, even more important, that he knew. Jude Harrison Quincy was born to sing. And whether she wanted to deny it or not, he wasn't going to allow her to hide it. When he looked in her eyes the few times he'd seen her since she came back, he could see that she was dying inside. And he would have bet his entire fortune that it was because she'd given up on singing. Singing wasn't just a job for Jude. He knew that better than almost anyone. It was the way she kept her sanity, the way she dealt with the world around her; it was also her oasis. And even if he looked like the world's biggest asshole, he wasn't going to stand around and watch Jude, the brightest star he'd ever worked with, slowly, quietly, wither away.

* * *

Jude exhaled deeply and relaxed against the wall outside of Darius's office. _One down, one more to g__o_, she thought to herself.

She glanced across the lobby to see Tommy alone in Studio A, setting up for his next artist. As she watched him, she realized that she still knew his entire routine. As he took a sip from his large coffee, a habit he'd undoubtedly picked up from her somewhere along the way, she knew the next thing he'd do was set the controls on the soundboard. And she could pick out, to the minute, how long it would take him. She counted mentally, knowing the second he would stand up to move into the recording booth to set up the microphone. She felt the warmth and comfort in this familiarity, in knowing him so completely, returning life to her cold, paralyzed heart.

She shook her head slightly, forcing herself out of her trance. She couldn't let herself think like that anymore. She wasn't supposed to know him so well. She was supposed to have forgotten his quirks and idiosyncratic habits.

She clutched the manila envelope, one she'd picked up that very morning during her errands, and held it close to her chest. As she carried it across the lobby towards him, she felt like it was weighing her down, slowing her approach. She'd called her lawyer a couple nights ago, after making the decision to resolve things once and for all, and asked him to prepare the papers. They'd finally been ready this morning.

Before she changed her mind, she knocked on the glass studio door.

His head snapped up from the guitar he was tuning, the surprise of seeing her evident on his face. Considering it was apparent she'd been obviously avoiding him since their last run-in, there was no wonder it was a bit surprising that now she was actually seeking him out. He motioned for her to come in, so she opened the glass door and walked towards the recording booth. She stopped in the doorway, not wanting to feel his presence any closer. It was already torturous enough standing within five feet of him in that setting. They'd made beautiful, heart-wrenching music in that very room. Through their shared love of the music and the time they'd spent in that recording booth, they had grown closer than she thought any two people could. And now, the distance between them was palpable. It hurt; she actually felt the physical ache, starting in her chest and spreading towards her throat where it threatened to choke her. She avoided his eyes, instead looking anywhere but directly at him.

"Jude... I'm so sorr-" he began, but she interrupted him before he could continue with his apology. An apology that wouldn't change anything.

"Tommy, I… I'm not here about the fight. We were both out of line the other day. Anyway, it's not important. Not anymore." She sighed, reaching the part that was the hardest to say. "I came to give you this." She held out the envelope and couldn't resist gauging his reaction as her eyes searched his. Eyes that held confusion and regret met hers, eyes that made her heart ache even more.

He stood up, leaning the guitar against the wall. He approached her slowly, as if he thought he would scare her away if he moved too quickly. He took the envelope from her, and she made sure that their hands did not graze as he took possession of the envelope. Her hands were visibly shaking and she immediately withdrew them to hide her nervousness from him. He stood only a foot from her, and she crept back into the doorway as far as she could in order to put some distance between them.

She watched as he opened the envelope and took out the booklet of pages. His eyes immediately zoned in on the first words, indicating what exactly this document was.

She tried to find her voice, channeling as much strength as she could find within herself. Regardless, she could still hear her voice cracking as she spoke. "It's called a joint divorce. We both sign it, and I'll file it. And then...it's done."

He hadn't looked up from the papers yet, and she couldn't bear the uncomfortable silence so she continued to ramble. "Since we've been technically separated for over a year, it's called a no-fault divorce. At least, that's what the lawyer told me."

He finally looked up, hurt and determination in his eyes. She knew then exactly what was coming. "I'm not signing it."

She took a deep breath, not wanting a raging argument to develop like the one they'd had at Sadie and Kwest's. "Tommy, I need this to be over. If I'm going to live here again and work here, then I need closure on that part of my life. I need to let it go." She could feel the tears spring to her eyes. Tears she had no intention of shedding in his presence.

"And I need to hold on to it." His voice was low and quiet. His eyes held a vulnerability he'd rarely shared with her before. For weeks before she'd left, looking into his eyes had been like looking directly at a stone wall...he was so cold, emotionless, distant. He'd never been one to be overly forthcoming with his emotions, at least not until she'd broken through some of his barriers, but after...well, after, he'd held so much back from her.She couldn't help but wonder why he'd let her see this vulnerability now, of all times. Even so, like everything else, it didn't change anything. It was much too late for that.

She held on to the last bit of strength she could, as she gripped the doorway for support. "There's nothing left to hold on to. Tommy, we've been apart for two years." She paused for a second, choosing her words carefully. "Most marriages don't survive what we went through." Her voice became quiet as she brought up the one tragedy they would always share. "It's something we can't change. And besides that, there is too much water under the bridge; there's too much that we can't come back from."

Tommy looked away, flicking away an unwanted tear as he tried to keep himself together. Despite everything, she didn't want to cause him any more pain. That was certainly never her intention. There had been enough heartache between them for more than one lifetime, and she wanted it to stop. She just wanted this whole thing to be over; she just didn't want to hurt anymore.

He finally spoke, but her heart dropped when his opinion was unchanged. "I'm not signing it." His voice was quiet but fierce. He strode quickly by her, his body accidently grazing against hers. Her heart rate quickened helplessly and she leaned against the doorway for a minute to stop herself from losing her balance. She desperately wished that he didn't still have the effect of turning the earth on its axis whenever he touched her. It made it harder to focus on the reasons why they couldn't be married when she could barely breathe when she was within five feet of him.

When she finally caught her breath, she followed him and found him sitting behind the soundboard, needlessly adjusting the controls. She picked up the papers that he had placed on the corner of the soundboard and shoved them in front of him again. "Just sign them, and let the past stay in the past." And without another word, she walked quickly out the door.

* * *

He threw the papers back towards the corner of the soundboard. He had no intention of signing them. Ever. His parents had divorced when he was a child, but they had been desperately unhappy. He'd been the product of a loveless marriage that was better ending in an amicable divorce. His parents were even friends now. He knew very well that some people were not destined to stay married. But he also knew that he and Jude were not included in that group. If he could go back and fix the mistakes he'd made, like pulling away from her after Chloe died when they'd really needed each other the most, he would. But he couldn't. He couldn't take back how unfairly he'd treated her or how he'd judged her. But that didn't mean he couldn't change the future.

He walked back into the recording booth to finish setting up for Mason's session.

He knew he had a lot of work to do. His behavior had shown her that he couldn't be trusted to be there for her and he had to fix that. He had to get his life back on track; pleading with her to give him another chance just wouldn't work. He had to show Jude that he deserved another chance at being her husband. He just didn't know where to start. He picked up the guitar and continued tuning it as he had been doing before Jude showed up with the papers.

And it was then that an idea hit him.

Music was the key. It was always the answer, at least where he and Jude were concerned.

There was something he had thought about doing long ago when he and Jude were happy, before they gotten the news that sent them reeling. After she had left, he had been too much of a mess to have even pondered it, but now… he felt like maybe he finally could do it. For her and for himself.

* * *

She collapsed on the couch in Studio B, completely drained. She knew a divorce was the right thing, the only option that she had left. But it still hurt. It was hard to accept that she and Tommy had come so far only to fail. But it was done. She knew, despite the awful things Tommy had said to her the night she fled, she couldn't heap all the blame on him. She had sealed their fate the moment she had run intending never to return.

She couldn't think of that now. Once Tommy saw the futility of fighting for a hopeless cause and signed the papers, they would be finished for good. She pushed away the overwhelming sadness that threatened to overtake her at that thought. She needed to focus on something else.

She glanced at her watch and realized that SME was not due to come in for another two hours. Since they were going to be sticking around Toronto too, she had given them the morning off to go looking for an apartment. So, she had two hours to do… well, she knew what she should be doing with it.

She grabbed her bag as she stood up and walked slowly into the recording studio. She sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor and took out her journal. The pages were torn and it was pretty beaten up, but she knew she would never throw it out. It was one of the last presents Tommy had given her before things had disintegrated before her eyes, and she knew that she would always hold on to it as a momento of what used to be.

Something about being pregnant had really fueled her inspiration. She'd been over seven months pregnant when she complained one day that her journal was full. And, as if expecting it, he'd pulled out this one, a thick black book with silver edged pages, and handed it to her. There was a special note he'd written to her on in the inside cover, which she could still recite without looking at.

_Jude,_

_Look how far we've come, girl. I'm so proud of everything you've accomplished. This is just one of many journals that will be filled with the beautiful, inspiring music that comes from within your very soul. I'm in awe of you and I always will be. I'm yours, body and soul, for forever and always._

_All my love,_

_Tommy_

It was amazing how short forever turned out to be.

She flipped through the pages, wondering if this journal held any songs she would want to put on her CD. She'd had this journal for so long, and it was so full, that she now only used it for special thoughts and songs.

Her finger stopped the pages on one of the last entries and as she skimmed the lines of the song she'd written, she unconsciously held her breath. She slammed the journal shut, not ready to face _that_ song. She couldn't even read it. It had been one of the last songs she'd written that had come directly from her soul. The last outpouring of pure emotion she'd put into a song. She wasn't sure she'd ever be ready to really confront the painful words she'd written.

She stood up, leaving her belongings scattered on the floor, and rushed towards the exit to the back alley. _Just breathe,_ she told herself as her heart raced and her breathing quickened. She slammed the door and leaned against the cool brick, laying her head back against it. The cold outside air felt good against her skin, and her heart rate began to slow to a regular beat.

She was trying so desperately to move on from what had happened, but she wondered if that would ever really be possible. Not when the reality of Chloe's death, and the fallout seemed to confront her at every turn.

* * *

Tommy only hesitated a moment before following Jude. He'd caught a glimpse of her almost running towards the back exit and he'd immediately known something was wrong. He could read her face, even from that distance and the look was one of grief and pain. And he knew immediately what she must be thinking about.

He dismissed Mason, telling him to take a break, and jogged towards the exit, preparing himself for the real possibility that she wouldn't want his support. But he was going to give it anyway. He hadn't been there for her over two years ago when she'd needed him; he was going to do his best to be there for her now.

He pushed the door open, knowing exactly where she'd be. Standing a couple feet down the wall, leaning against it. It's how he always found her when she was frustrated or upset.

He walked outside, and turned his head, confirming his suspicion. She didn't even move or open her eyes. But he knew that she knew he was there. That was just the way things were with them; it was one of those things that would never change, even when they were 105 and could barely see or hear.

And to his utter surprise, the words she spoke were not dismissive or angry for invading her privacy. "I was thinking about _her_, and it just hit me. The sadness. The overwhelming, crushing sadness. And I just needed some air." She turned her head and he saw the tears filling her eyes. She had no idea why she was telling him this. The words spilled out before she could stop them.

He leaned back against the wall and nodded, understanding exactly what she meant. "For me it's the ultrasound pictures. I can barely stand to look at them anymore."

She nodded and looked away. They stood in silence for a long while, neither one wanting to break the silence or move away from the tentative truce they'd achieved with their few words.

"Look," she finally said, sighing loudly, "I don't want to be mad at you anymore. I don't want to yell. I just want to move on. We can't go back. We can't be what we once were." The finality of her words sent a jolt of panic down his spine.

She took a deep breath. She knew what she was about to do might be foolish or naïve. It was probably stupid and she was probably asking for trouble or giving him the wrong idea. But standing here with him, feeling the comfort of standing in the presence of the only person who had even the smallest idea what she was going through, it was the only compromise she could come up with that seemed feasible. "But that doesn't mean I want to ban you from my life."

He felt a flicker of hope rise within him, despite her warning that they were over. "So, what does that make us?"

She paused, thinking over the question. Honestly, she couldn't form a logical answer. Was he a friend? An acquaintance? Neither of these terms seemed to fit. "I honestly don't know…" She said, pushing herself off the wall and heading back inside.

* * *

He watched her step back inside but his thoughts were still on the short conversation they had just had. Not so much on the words themselves, although they were important. But when she'd said that she just wanted to move on, he saw a flicker of something in her eyes that frightened him. There was deep-seeded hurt, almost betrayal. That scared him. He'd done a lot of stupid things, but he really had no clue what would have affected her so deeply.

He needed a plan. He already had an idea of what he was going to do to show her that he was moving in a positive direction with his life. Now, he needed to start earning her trust so that he could find out how to mend the fences that he had apparently burned down. And of course, get her to stop the divorce proceedings. Piece of cake, right?

He sighed loudly at the task ahead of him. But he knew it would be worth it. Having Jude back in his life, in their house and in his arms, and earning his way back into her heart... it was the most important thing he would ever do.


	13. Chapter Twelve

**A/N:** Thank you all SO much for your reviews! I really appreciate the comments and feedback. Please keep them coming.

**A/N 2:** The first song excerpt is Hedley's "She's So Sorry" and the second one is Hedley's "Brave New World". I clearly do not own either of these.

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Chapter Twelve:

She sighed in frustration for the millionth time as she looked down at the front left tire of her Mustang. She had pulled it to the side of the road after noticing that her car was becoming harder to control. Plus, the sound of metal grinding against the road was a bit of a tip-off that something was wrong. Getting out of the car to examine the damage, she could see that the tire was obviously flat; diagnosing the problem had not been difficult. Fixing it, however, was another story. She wasn't a complete idiot when it came to cars but using one of the "jack-things", as she called them, to lift up the car and change the tire was definitely beyond her level of ability.

She leaned against the hood of her car, waiting for help to arrive. Her first instinct had been to call her father, but he wasn't back in town yet, and he didn't even know she was in Toronto. And then she'd wasted ten minutes pacing back and forth in front of her car, trying to decide who exactly she should call. She had dialed Tommy's number three times, each time hanging up before she hit the 'send' button. She had been hit by a barrage of memories of the many times Tommy had raced to her aid. He had always been her rescuer, even before they were married, or even dating. She couldn't count the number of times he'd picked her up from the sketchy neighbourhood that the rehearsal space was in when she'd been practicing late and didn't want to leave the building by herself. Without hesitation, he would drive right over, walk her out of the building and follow her home, even waiting to make sure she got in the door before driving away. She knew this was exactly the kind of situation he would jump to rescue her from. And that's exactly why she decided not to phone him. She had depended on him in a lot of ways since they met and she couldn't let herself fall back into that pattern. Besides, she hadn't even spoken more than three words to him in almost a week, since she'd admitted to him she couldn't kick him completely out of her life. It had been a foolish thing to say and she knew it would only confuse him, but it was the only thing she could live with. For some inexplicable reason, regardless of everything they had been through, she just couldn't imagine her life without him in it. She'd lived for two years without seeing him or talking to him and she'd been miserable. So, this had to be an improvement, right? She just hoped that someday they'd be friends again without all the awkwardness and bitterness, but she wondered if that was even possible.

She'd settled on calling Kwest, the third person she thought of. As she stood, waiting for him, she was still internally debating whether she should have called Tommy. It could have been a gesture of friendship. Or it could have been misconstrued as something more than that. She had to face the fact that she had no idea what to do when it came to Tommy.

She sighed deeply, wondering what was taking Kwest so long. He was at G-Major, which was only 10 minutes from where she had pulled over her car. As she glanced at her watch, she heard the purr of a car pull up behind hers. Finally, she thought to herself, relieved that he was finally there. But that relief changed to panic when the bright blue color of the car caught her eye before she even looked up.

She groaned in frustration as she observed that it was, in fact, the Viper that had parked behind her. She watched, unable to stop herself from staring in disbelief, as Tommy climbed out from the driver's side of the car. She knew that she had contemplated phoning him herself, but she surmised that she'd have to yell at Kwest later for forcing Tommy on her and not even having the decency to phone and warn her.

He adjusted his sunglasses, moving them to the top of his head, and she felt a shiver run down her back at the familiar gesture. She knew this man like the back of hand, even still. It was more than a bit unsettling.

"Need a bit of help there?" He asked as he approached, smirking at her in that familiar way that always got under her skin. In a good way.

She shrugged off the arousal that shot through her with that smile. "What happened to Kwest?"

Tommy continued smiling, anticipating her frustration. "I called him just as he was leaving to help you. He mentioned your problem and I said I'd come since I was heading to G-Major and he was already at work."

He stood beside her, too close, as he analyzed the damage. His arm grazed hers and she moved slightly to place distance between them. Remove the temptation and it will be easier, she thought to herself.

He crouched down, looking closer at the tire. He touched it, gauging the level of pressure. "It's pretty bad. There must be a leak in it somewhere," he said, turning his head to glance up at her. "Do you still have the spare in the trunk?"

She nodded. "I don't know if Kwest and Sadie kept it pumped up, though. For all I know, it might be flat too."

"Well, let's check it out," he said, standing up and reaching inside the door of the Mustang to hit the button that would open the trunk. She mused that it looked like he hadn't forgotten much either, even about her car.

She followed him to the trunk, where he felt the spare tire. "It's a little weak, but it's better than the one you've got on there. At least until we can get you to a gas station to have a new tire put on."

He grabbed the wrench and freed the spare tire from the bolt that was keeping it attached to the inside of her trunk. He lugged the tire out of the trunk, carrying it to the front of the car. "Hey, can you grab the jack for me?"

She looked back into the trunk and pulled out what she assumed was the jack. She turned back to hand it to him, when she noticed that he'd removed his leather jacket and tossed it on the hood. He was rolling up his sleeves, and her eyes immediately searched for the little scar that she knew she'd find on his left forearm. During a particularly nasty fight, she'd thrown a vase at him. It had shattered and had cut him deeply. She'd run to him, more worried about what possible harm she had done to him than winning the argument. She couldn't help but surmise that they'd left their marks on each other in more ways than one.

His eyes followed hers, noticing where her gaze had landed. He chuckled softly. "Thinking about inflicting another wound?" he joked, holding out his hand to take the jack.

"I guess you better watch your back," she quipped, shooting a small smile at him and placing the jack in his hands.

She watched him work, occasionally assisting him whenever he requested it. But mostly she just stared at him, at the bicep muscles she could see through the thin material of his shirt. She didn't know why, but something about him doing manual labor was so… appealing to her. She shook her head, thinking how inappropriate her thoughts were. They were getting a divorce. For so many reasons, they were over. She couldn't let herself think about him in _that_ way anymore. No matter how tempting he was.

She averted her eyes, deciding the best way to avoid temptation was by not looking at him. She heard him stand and turned her head to see him wipe the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand.

"All done," he said, dragging the flat tire to stash it in the trunk. She heard the trunk slam and the crunch of gravel under his feet as he returned to her side.

She smiled up at him. "Thanks, Tommy. I do really appreciate your help."

He smirked, one that told her she wasn't getting away that easily. "Don't thank me quite yet. I was hoping that in return you'd do something for me."

"What's that?" she asked, suspiciously, her defenses already rising against whatever he was about to request.

"I want to talk. I want you and me to sit down and have a real discussion. I think it's beyond time for that."

She sighed loudly, looking off into the distance. "Tommy—"

"Please…" She made the mistake of looking back at him, taking in the pleading puppy dog look on his face. "Fine," she conceded. "Tonight, at G-Major once everyone is gone. But this doesn't change anything. Talking won't change what has to happen."

He smiled, clearly happy that she even agreed to talk to him. She had the sneaking suspicion that her last words fell on deaf ears. One way or the other she would make him understand. She had to.

"Give me your keys," he requested suddenly.

"Why?"

"I'll take it into the shop for you. I always dealt with them about your car, anyway."

"But—" She began to protest when she realized that she was late for a meeting with SME and Darius. "But how am I going to get to work?"

She caught Tommy glancing at the Viper, and noticed his reluctance as he held out the keys. "Just be careful with her," he warned.

She couldn't help but laugh. Driving his Viper was a pleasure she'd barely gotten to experience even when they were together. "Don't worry… she's in good hands."

He laughed boisterously, and she couldn't help but feel offended. "I've seen you drive, remember?"

"Ha. Ha," she commented sarcastically. "But what do you expect, considering who taught me. See you later, Quincy," she threw over her shoulder as she walked over to the Viper. The anticipation and excitement washed over her as she sat down in the comfortable leather seat. It was heaven, just how she remembered it.

She started the engine, and raced away speedily, mostly to irritate him. She waved at him as she drove by and, to her surprise, she could've sworn she saw Quincy shaking with laughter at her defiant move.

* * *

Her meeting with Darius and SME was quick, but very fruitful. As promised, Darius agreed that Jude could produce them at the same time as she was recording the last few songs on her unfinished CD.

They'd immediately gotten to work on a heavy rock song, which, from the lyrics, Jude could only assume was about Karma.

"Okay, 'She's So Sorry' take four," Jude said, signaling for the band to begin again. It was a great, angry rock song but Speid just wasn't nailing it. And she assumed it had something to do with being back in the same building where Karma worked. She, better than anyone, knew it was a lot easier when you didn't have to actually face the person you were angry at. She'd been so focusing on herself, she'd neglected to remember how hard returning to Toronto might be for Speid too.

_We started out okay,  
But you threw it all away.  
My god what's going on in your head?  
For all we could have found,  
Just to let it hit the ground.  
Well I'm good and done  
__We're over and dead._

And yes I'm leaving you it's obvious,  
So wipe that stupid look right off of your face.

"Cut!" Jude yelled through the intercom, and the music stopped. He still wasn't nailing it; in fact, it was getting worse. "Kyle, Wally, you guys can take your lunch break, okay?"

They left without a second thought, and Jude made her way into the recording booth.

Speid leaned his guitar against the wall and collapsed on a chair.

"Want to talk about it?" she asked, pulling up another chair to sit beside him. She placed a comforting hand on his arm.

He sighed heavily before saying anything. "I ran into Karma this morning. And you know what, she actually asked me to take her back! After all this time."

"Do you want to?"

"Hell no. It's just, no matter what I do, she's there, in my brain and now in front of my face. But I don't want her back. I'm just… the song is really angry and I'm not really feeling that way right now."

"Okay, so let's save that song for later, when you are feeling angry. Is there a song you want to work on today? If you're not feeling up to being around here today, believe me I understand. We can start again tomorrow."

She could see his eyes light up, and she knew he had an idea. "There is a song, actually," he said rummaging through his backpack and pulling out some papers. "It's not quite ready yet, though. Maybe you can help with some of the lyrics."

Jude nodded, more than happy that, instead of focusing on her own pain, she could possibly help Speid get over his.

He handed her the papers and she looked over the words, bopping her head to the music that was already filling her head. She grabbed Speid's guitar and played the tune that had come to her.

"Dude, I love that," Speid said. He began to sing along with the music she was playing.

_Hello, I love you  
Won't you tell me your name?  
Hello, I need you, like a bullet to my brain  
It seems I'm never breaking free  
While you sit and watch me bleed  
When the night falls there's nowhere to go_

"Speid, this sounds amazing!" Jude exclaimed, excitement filling her for the first time in a very long time. She could feel herself getting wrapped up in the collaborative song-writing process, something she hadn't taken part in since she'd left Toronto. In LA, she'd always written by herself, and she never realized how much she'd missed it. And no matter how much she loved or clicked with Speed, a part of her was yearning for her normal song-writing partner.

Inspiration washed over her, too overwhelming for her to control. "What about this next?" she asked, and without thinking about what she was doing, she opened her mouth, allowing her rich, powerful tone to fill the air.

_I won't let you in, let you see me cry.  
I can't give you that satisfaction this time_

She perceived Speid's shocked face and she realized what she had done. She slapped her hand over her mouth, stopping any further sound from escaping.

She had just sung. She couldn't believe after all this time, that the first time she would seriously sing would be in such an accidental way. She couldn't stop the resulting emotions from overpowering her. Singing again had felt amazing, liberating. But it also held a lot of baggage from her past, a lot of residual hurt and heartache. And when she sang, when she opened herself up to the vulnerability that singing brought to her, those mixed emotions threatened to engulf her.

She looked at Speid, who was still recovering from the surprise of hearing her voice again. "Dude, that was amazing … as flawless as ever."

She didn't know what to say; she'd honestly wondered if she still even had it in her. Well, apparently she did.

"Looks like the old Jude is back…" Speid said, smiling and grabbing her hand tightly.

She half-smiled at his assertion. The old Jude was gone, probably for good. "I wouldn't go that far. I'm actually kinda relieved I can still even sing. I was a little worried, I have to admit. But the problem is, it was never the singing that was the problem. It's the feelings, the emotions… just everything that goes along with it. Am I ready to open myself up to all that again?" She stared away from him, thinking seriously about the question she'd just posed.

It was a rhetorical question, and Speid knew this but he decided to answer it anyway. "I think you are. I think you need to. It's who you are. And I think we both know it's time to stop hiding from that."

She nodded, taking in his words. "How about we take that lunch break too?" she asked, completely evading the thought. He knew exactly what she was doing. She needed time. She'd realize it was right, but he knew she had to find that out for herself.

As she headed out to the kitchen, he sat for a moment longer, thinking about the breakthrough he had just witnessed. She had sung, and it was just as beautiful as he remembered. She had one of those voices, 

the ones you never forget. And yet, every time you hear it, the beauty and the perfection of it overwhelms you and it's like you're hearing it for the first time. Her voice had power; there was innate raw, unbridled emotion that she didn't even have to try to evoke. He shivered, just thinking about it.

She was back. Every day, she was becoming a little bit more like the old Jude. He knew that, as hard as it was, being home was helping her. The emptiness he'd seen in her only a few short weeks ago when they'd run into each other in Vancouver was slowly being replaced by something else. He wasn't sure what it was. It wasn't quite happiness. After all she'd been through, he knew it would be a while before she would let herself be truly happy. But there was a sense of peace and acceptance that was slowly finding a place inside her. And as much as he didn't want to admit it, he knew that Tommy Quincy was likely the only person who could truly help her really come to terms with everything.

* * *

She walked towards the kitchen, not really paying attention to where she was going. She was more shaken than she wanted to admit. She didn't even know how to feel about what she'd just done. She knew she'd have to do it sooner or later, but she wasn't prepared for the whirlwind of emotions, good and bad, that accompanied the music that escaped from her lips.

She took a deep breath, trying to settle her emotions, when someone touched her shoulder lightly.

She jumped, startled, and spun around quickly to find herself face to face with Jamie.

His smile immediately disappeared when he took in her troubled expression. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing… I just… I sang…" she managed to say. She noticed Jamie's confused expression and realized that, since she hadn't told him anything yet, he had no clue why this was such a big deal. The Jude he knew was always singing. Even when people wished she would shut up.

"Do you have a minute? There's actually something I need to talk to you about. And I think there's some pertinent information you need to fill the Jamester in on."

Regardless of her dawning sadness, she couldn't help smirking. "The Jamester?"

He smiled, wondering if he should keep the nickname, just to make her smile. "Shut up, unless you want me to call you the Judester."

She rolled her eyes, laughing lightly. "Your office?"

He nodded, swinging his arm around her shoulders and leading her in that direction. She halted her footsteps in the doorway, her eyes zoning in on something on his desk.

She stepped slowly forward, picking up the item in question. "Licorice? Since when do you like red licorice?"

He grabbed the large bag out of her hands, shoving it into the top drawer of his desk. "Ummm… he left a bag around once, a few months ago, and I tried it. I've been hooked ever since." He looked away uncomfortably.

Jude laughed, loudly. She couldn't believe that Quincy was passing on his habits to other people. "Jamie, it's okay. Look, I'm living here now; you can mention his name without being afraid that I'm going to slit my wrists." She could see the shock on Jamie's face at her words, and she was immediately sorry she used such a harsh example. She cleared her throat, walking around Jamie's desk to open the top drawer and 

pull out the bag of licorice. She was hungry, and she kind of missed eating this stuff. She collapsed into one of the chairs in his office, propping her legs up on the desk. "So, he still eats this stuff?"

"All of the time," Jamie said, collapsing in the chair beside Jude's and reaching his hand in for a few pieces of licorice. "Especially after a bad drinking episode…. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have mentioned that."

"No, it's okay. So, he still does that too, I guess?"

Jamie nodded reluctantly. "Not once since you've been back, though."

Feeling the conversation hitting a bit too close to home, she changed the subject. "So, what is it that you wanted to talk about?"

He stood up, walking around his desk to pick up a newspaper. He placed it gently in front of her, sitting back down beside her.

She stared at the images and the headline for a minute, without really taking it in. It was her and Tommy, standing in the alley of G-Major almost a week ago. She couldn't believe the paparazzi had caught that one moment that she'd been talking to him.

And then it began to dawn on her what this actually meant.

Uh oh. They knew she was back. And she had the front page of the newspaper to prove it.

The headline read "Canada's Supercouple: Reunited At Last", and as she examined the picture more closely, she noticed Tommy's tender gaze and her own half-smile. It actually looked like a love-filled moment instead of what it actually was – two parents talking about their stillborn daughter.

"Oh God. This isn't good." But it was inevitable. She had been at the peak of stardom in Canada when she'd walked away two years ago. And she and Tommy together created even more buzz. She knew this was going to happen eventually. "I can't believe Darius didn't mention it this morning…"

"I asked him to let me break the news. I knew you wouldn't be happy."

"Thank you, I appreciate that," she said, shooting him a grateful smile. "But I knew this was going to happen eventually. It looks like I've fully re-entered the circus that was my previous life." She sighed loudly, knowing the media frenzy that was going to surround her the minute she walked out the door from now on. "Honestly, I'm surprised that this hadn't happened already. These photos are almost a week old."

"Whoever took them must not have realized who exactly they were photographing, or they would have pounced on it."

She looked at him, at the face of her best friend, and she suddenly felt sadness wash over her. Sadness at missing two years of his life. For not calling him all that time. She knew he wasn't mad, and she also knew that he should be. And she suddenly realized that she needed to tell him everything. All the gory details of what happened two years ago.

"I'm sorry," she blurted out, her eyes filling up with tears.

Clearly confused by her apology, he reached forward to take a hold of her hands. "Jude, what –"

"For everything. For leaving you without a word, for never calling. I'm just sorry. It wasn't fair to any of you, and I have to live with that. But I need to tell you. You need to know why."

And she told him. Every detail. Every word that Tommy said and could never take back. She watched the shock and horror and anger flash across his face. She cried, as she always did when she relived one of the most painful days of her life, and he cried, in sympathy and for all the hurt that he couldn't help her deal with.

When she was finished, he jumped out of his chair, heading for the door. "Where are you going?"

"I'm going to go kill that bastard!"

"Jamie!!" she yelled, jumping up to get between him and the door. "You're not going to kill him. What would that do? Only you and Speid know and neither of you are going to tell anyone. I don't want everyone around her hating him for something that he said two years ago."

"It wasn't just some little thing!" Jamie yelled, outraged. "He might as well have ripped out your heart and handed it to you!"

"Unfortunately I am well aware of how it felt. But it's between the two of us. No one else needs to get involved. I told you because you're my best friend. You've been through everything with me, including losing Chloe. You were the one who was there for me when my husband should have been. But he was in pain too."

"And that excuses what he said?? How can you just let it go?"

The anger returned to the surface of her emotions. "Believe me, I haven't. I can't forget about it or forgive him, but that doesn't mean I want to live with this tension anymore. I just want to move on. And once I have the divorce, I will be able to do that. Things will be better." But as she uttered the last sentence, she silently wondered who she was trying to convince – Jamie or herself?

* * *

That evening, Tommy paced his office waiting for everyone to leave G-Major. He was beyond anxious to talk to her. When he'd returned with her car and found her to give her the keys, he'd reminded her about their talk. She'd shoved the newspaper photos of them in front of him, saying that they had to set the record straight. That tonight what they were going to talk about was what to say to the press.

He didn't give a damn what the press thought. What he wanted to talk about was much more important. He needed to find out what the hell had made her suddenly run for LA two years ago. Because he had the suspicion that, until he knew that, he wouldn't likely make much headway getting her back. He must have done something. Or maybe she'd just gotten sick of his drinking. He didn't know, but he needed to find out.

A couple of minutes later, he was still pacing when he heard a soft knock on the door. He strode quickly over, almost swinging the door off its hinges in anticipation.

Jude stood outside his door, looking more than a little apprehensive. He hated that she felt that way. Long ago, she never would have stood outside his door looking so damn nervous.

He motioned for her to enter, and she immediately sat down on the couch in the corner of his office. He sat opposite her, on a chair, conscious enough of her needs to know that she needed space. Especially when she was already nervous about this whole conversation.

And as he opened his mouth to begin their discussion, he suddenly felt so relieved that this moment had finally come. After two years, it was finally time for some answers.


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**A/N:** Hi! Thank you all so much for your comments and support! I'm sorry this chapter has taken so long to complete. School is just insane right now (I'm doing a placement) and I've barely had time to write. Besides that, I'm really nervous about this chapter and I think that's why I've been delaying it a bit. Anyway, please enjoy and let me know what you think! (And please keep the faith, even if you're not happy with what's going on...lol)

* * *

Chapter Thirteen:

He watched her take a seat nervously on the couch in his office. He could see in her eyes and in the tentative way she rested against the cushions that her mind, like his own, was remembering all the times they had napped together and cuddled on that very couch. The memories were almost tangible, reaching out to them, like a third being in the very small room. They had spent so much time alone in that office, talking or kissing or just hanging out together. Sadness rushed to the forefront of his emotions as he pondered the circumstances that had now brought them to the office.

He took a seat on a chair, not too far from the couch. "So…" he said, searching for the right words to begin this very complicated, and important, discussion.

"So," she repeated, fidgeting uncomfortably and keeping her eyes glued to the floor. "Once you sign the divorce papers we need to release some sort of joint statement. That should get the press off our backs."

His heart began to pound quickly. This conversation was already headed in the wrong direction and it had barely started.

He stood up and paced the floor, suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that he needed to move, to escape the words she'd just said. "Jude, I told you before, I'm not signing the papers," he said quietly but resolutely.

Her head shot up and her eyes met his angrily. "Why do you insist on doing this? What is dragging it out going to do? Can't you see that it hurts even more?"

He could feel his ire rising, and he did his best to keep it under control. If he ever planned on getting through to her, he knew he needed to keep his anger in check. "Can't you see that breaking up this marriage would be the worst thing that could happen to either of us?"

She sighed loudly, and he could almost feel her confusion and anger. "Tommy, I know that's what you think you want, but it's not. You don't want to be married to me."

He felt bold, perhaps from the desperation that was coursing through his veins, and he took a seat next to her on the couch, grabbing one of her hands before she could pull it away. He caught her eyes and held them with the fierce, determined look in his own. "You're wrong. It's the only thing I want. And I know you want it too," he added, taking a big chance with that assertion. He couldn't actually say that with any certainty. He only _hoped_ it was true.

She sighed again, and Tommy twined his fingers through hers. He could feel her hand relax under his as she subconsciously became accustomed to his touch again. As he waited for her to say something, all he could focus on was the way his hand was tingling from the contact with her skin. Touching her, even in this small way, was like Christmas morning. Only better. He stared at their joined hands, wishing he could freeze this moment. That he could forever preserve this instant in time, and that their hands, their hearts, their bodies, would never be parted again.

He glanced up to look at her, at the tears that had filled her eyes. "You know what?" she began, her voice cracking. She averted her eyes as she continued. "For a long time, I did want that. For a very long time, being married to you was the only thing I cared about. They could have taken everything else away and I wouldn't have cared as long as I still had you. But you and I, we've been through too much. That part of our life has to be over." She lifted her free hand to wipe a stray tear off her cheek.

His heart shattered even further as he watched her. There was so much pain and sadness in her; he hated thinking that he had contributed to these feelings in her. That, instead of helping her with the death of 

their daughter, he'd unintentionally brought this hurting to her life through his carelessness and drunkenness. It made him even more determined to mend things between them, and help them get back to what they used to be. "I can't believe that. You know as well as I do that we'll never be over. What we have, it's not something you can turn on and off."

"Tommy, just leave it," she said angrily, finally pushing his hand away and tucking both of her hands into her lap. "Leave what we had in the past. It's over."

Finally, he felt that the time had come. He had to ask the question he'd been waiting to know the answer to for two years. "Why? What happened that made you so sure we can't go back? What happened that night that made you leave and plan on never returning?"

Shock filled her as his questions turned to that night. She should have known this would happen. She had hoped they could have this discussion without talking about that night, but she knew she should have recognized that that was foolish. That night had changed everything, and talking about it was inevitable.

Her silence unsettled him and he continued speaking, trying to convince her to reveal something to him. "There must have been something. I mean, after Chloe," he said, his voice lowering as he said her name, "we weren't doing so well. But for you to run off like that, something must have happened."

She raised her eyes, searching his for any sign that he remembered what happened that night. She saw nothing but confusion and questions. "What do you remember about that last night?" she asked quietly, her voice barely audible.

He ran his hands through his hand, trying now to remember a night he'd often attempted to forget. "I remember getting drunk for what must have been the third night in a row. And I vaguely remember Kwest tossing me in a cab and instructing the driver where to take me. After that, it gets pretty fuzzy. I'm pretty sure I remember fighting with you, but past that I don't remember anything."

Her mind spun with memories of that night, wishing that, like him, she didn't remember. Unfortunately for her, every moment was clear, like a movie she could rewind and watch at a moment's notice.

Her face spoke of the heartache and the pain, and he knew that something had happened that night, something so terrible that she didn't even want to talk about it. "What did I do?" he asked, leaning towards her, trying to coax the truth out of her. When she remained silent, a horrible thought dawned upon him. "Did I hit you?" he asked suddenly, his expression filled with disgust at the thought that he'd touch her with anything but tenderness.

She spun her face towards him in surprise. "No, of course not. I know you'd never do that," she assured him forcefully, unsure of why she felt such a desperate need to convince him that he wasn't capable of such behaviour. No matter what had happened between them, how he'd hurt her, she knew he'd never do _that_.

"Then what?" he asked, still pushing for an answer, for some morsel of information that would help him figure out exactly what had, in one night, caused her to flee the country.

She took a deep breath, and as she felt herself filled with unexpected courage, she made a sudden decision to tell him everything. Maybe that really was what they both needed in order to find some sort of resolution.

But as she opened her mouth to tell him what he'd said that night, she caught a glimpse of the intense vulnerability in his eyes. His eyes were probing hers, looking at her in that familiar way that made her feel like he could see right down to her soul. That kind of exposure always worked both ways between them, 

even now. She could see the fear, the desperation, and also the self-loathing that was taking root inside of him.

And that's when reality hit her. If she told him, that self-loathing would only get deeper. He was finally starting to get himself together; he hadn't gotten drunk at all in the weeks since she'd been back, and he was finally starting to act like the Tommy she remembered, not the cold, resentful Tommy who had emerged when Chloe died. And in a matter of a minute, her mind had gone from deciding to tell him, back to the resolution to keep the truth from him.

She closed her mouth, making a promise to herself never to tell him. He was finally beginning to heal, and who was she to take that away from him? Especially when it wasn't going to change anything anyway? She didn't want to hurt him; she didn't want revenge. She just wanted to move on with her life, and she wanted him to be able to do the same.

She took a deep breath, giving herself a moment to devise some kind of explanation. She wasn't going to tell him everything, but she did have to tell him _something_. Finally she opened her mouth, offering an explanation that she hoped would sate his curiosity and put an end to the questions. "Those months were the hardest of my life. We were struggling, you know that. And that night, as soon as you walked through the door we fell into our usual pattern of arguing, and something in me just snapped, and I just...I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't take your drinking and the silence and tension that had developed between us. I was physically and emotionally finished. So I did the only thing I could think would help both you and me. I left to give us both the chance to heal. Something we clearly couldn't do together." As she spoke, she realized that this explanation wasn't completely a lie. By the night that he blamed her for Chloe's death, she had reached a breaking point. Tommy's drinking, his disappearing, it had all taken a toll on her fraught emotions. But there was no doubting that it was Tommy's blaming her that had pushed her past that point.

He looked unsatisfied, and she feared for a moment that he was going to continue pushing. "So, there was nothing specific that happened that night?" he asked, the disbelief clear in his voice.

She shook her head, unable to look into his eyes as she lied to him.

They sat in silence for a moment, and he leaned back against the couch as he absorbed what she was telling him. "Did it work for you?" he asked, suddenly.

She shot him a look of confusion. "Healing apart?" he clarified. "Did it work for you?"

She averted her eyes, focusing them instead on one of her multi-platinum albums that still hung proudly on the wall in his office. She felt like her own reflection in the album cover was taunting her, reminding her of a time when death and heartache had been the farthest thing from her mind. When she hadn't had to think about whether she'd ever truly heal from the death of her first daughter.

She shook her head lightly, almost imperceptibly. "It wouldn't have mattered where I was. I've realized that I don't think healing is something I'll ever do." Her eyes moved across the room, purposely looking for something else to focus on than the man sitting beside her. Her eyes caught the smallest glimpse of bright red on his desk. Recognition hit her quickly, overpowering her. Unable to help herself, she stood up suddenly and walked towards his desk to pick up the brightly colored frame that had caught her eye.

Her hand shook wildly as she realized that it was the same picture that she remembered. She felt his presence behind her as they both looked at the picture. She couldn't believe he still had it on his desk after all this time. It was a picture of the two of them, looking blissfully happy. They'd been at some G-Major function and had been thoroughly enjoying themselves. She was six months pregnant and she remembered that Chloe had been particularly active that night, kicking up a storm. She remembered 

holding Tommy's hand to her stomach a few times as she'd explained that their daughter was definitely going to be a soccer star, as well as a rock star.

She glanced from her own smiling self to Tommy, taking in his wide, unabashed smirk. They'd been so damn happy. Her heart began to race, and her palms became sweaty as the memories of the months following this picture washed over her. These two happy people, whom she didn't even recognize anymore, had been like sitting ducks. It was as if their happiness had been tempting fate to come and crush them in the worst possible way.

The frame dropped from her shaking hand, the glass smashing as it hit the floor. "I'm so sorry," she murmured, immediately bending to pick up the frame and the glass.

"Jude, don't worry about it," he insisted, trying to grab her arms to stop her from reaching for the glass. He wasn't quick enough, however, and she swore under her breath as a piece of glass slashed a large cut across her palm.

Much to Tommy's dismay, she kept her head down and continued to pick up the shards, ignoring the blood that began to seep from her hand. "Jude... Jude, stop.." he said, gently grabbing her wrists and pulling her into an upright position.

She kept her head down, seemingly unwilling to meet his gaze. And as her body began to shake lightly, he moved one hand from his grip on her wrists to tilt her face up gently, confirming his suspicions. She was sobbing, her cheeks already drenched from the tears she'd been crying silently as she'd looked at the picture.

He moved closer to her, and she flinched at his approach. His heart burned with the slight rejection, and his mind raced as he tried to decide what he should do, whether to give her the space her body was telling him she wanted.

As he watched her tears coming faster, robbing her of breath, he did the only thing that felt right. He pulled her body gently against his own. Her body instantly resisted the comfort, but he didn't relent. He held her closer, twining one hand in her hair as he laid her head against his chest. And, regardless of the circumstances, the only thing that he could think was that having her in his arms felt right. Holding her after all the time they'd been apart, it was better than he'd even remembered.

Her body began to relax against his as he ran his hand along her back in soothing strokes. The sounds of her cries cut to the core of his heart, and he tightened his grasp on her.

And as quickly as it had happened, the warmth of her body against his was gone. She pushed herself away, turning to collect herself out of his view. She bent down again, picking up the frame, and she peered at the picture through the broken glass. "I'm sorry," she murmured quietly, her voice raspy from the sobs she'd just cried. "Sometimes it's just so... raw. Sometimes I can remember exactly what it felt like at that moment, and then the loss seems so… fresh." She sniffled a few more times, replacing the frame back onto his desk, and running her finger along the edge of the frame, still lost in her memories. He waited, silently and without moving, unsure of what to do that wouldn't make her run for the exit.

He stared at her silhouette and for the first time since she'd returned, he had a chance to really take in how she had changed over the past two years. She was still beautiful, in a heartbreaking, oblivious kind of way. Like she had no idea the effect she had on people. Her golden blonde hair was longer, reaching half way down her back, but it suited her. Her eyes had lost their carefree glimmer, but that wasn't surprising. Not after all she'd been through. It was a look he recognized well. After all, every time he looked in the mirror, he saw the same look of despair and emptiness looking back at him.

His eyes roved over her slim shape, noticing that she was a little on the unhealthy side. She'd always been skinny, but he noticed now how her clothes draped loosely off her small frame. He tried to push the worry away, knowing that she'd resist any offer of help or advice he gave anyway. But that didn't mean he wouldn't be watching. If she wasn't going to look after herself, he was going to have to do it for her. Even if he had to be sneaky about it.

As she finished collecting herself, and she turned around to face him, he noted immediately that a weary look had overtaken her face, signalling to him how drained she had become. He knew he'd pushed her enough for one night. He also could see in her tired eyes that she was reconstructing the metaphorical wall between them, erasing the vulnerability she had just shown him. He took a deep breath, realizing that getting her back into her life was going to be a lengthy process. But he was ready. Whatever it took, he'd do it.

"I should go," she said, exhaling loudly and moving towards the door.

"Wait…" Tommy said softly, causing her to turn her head towards him questioningly. Her eyes pleaded with him, begged him to let her go without further discussion of past or even the future. He moved slowly towards her, gently taking her wrist in his hands. "At least let me help you clean this."

She began to protest when she realized how difficult it would be to clean this cut with only one hand. The last thing she needed was to get an infection because she'd been too stubborn to let him help with a simple cut.

She nodded in silent agreement, and allowed him to lead her back to the couch. He disappeared for a moment, leaving her with another chance to look around the room. It was shocking to her how little he'd changed in two years. Every picture, including the one she'd broken, was the same. Even the position of his desk and his computer, the only thing updated, was unchanged. It made sitting in the office even more difficult. She felt like, if she tried hard enough, she could close her eyes and when she opened them, she'd be transported back to a happier time. But that wasn't reality and she had to stop thinking that it ever would be.

He walked swiftly back in, hydrogen peroxide and band-aids in hand, and she noticed the relief flash in his eyes that she was still sitting on the couch. She knew he'd been expecting her to flee. Honestly, besides the nuisance that the cut presented, she wasn't sure why she hadn't.

He took a seat next to her, cradling her hand in his as he carefully began to clean the cut. Her eyes were downcast and she looked so nervous, so distraught, that he knew he needed to do something to lighten the mood. Or at the very least, take her mind off her sadness for a minute. "So," he began, still focusing on her cut. "I've decided to restart a solo career," he announced.

Her head shot up, surprise evident in her expression. "Wow... Tommy, that's... that's great. I mean, you used to talk a lot about wanting to do that."

He nodded. "After "Frozen" didn't work all those years ago, it never seemed like the right time. But you know, it's something I think I need to do now. For a lot of reasons." She didn't have to know that she was one of the reasons. Or the main reason. Besides doing it for himself, proving to her that he was capable of doing something positive and worthwhile, of being the man she could love again, that was undoubtedly the main reason for this sudden decision. "I talked to Darius and he's thrilled about the kind of attention it will bring to G-Major. I'm heading into the studio next week to start working on it."

She shot him a half-smile. "Congratulations. It really sounds like you're putting your life back together." She glanced up, noticing that there was a flicker of excitement in his eyes when he was talking about his 

solo endeavor. It was something he'd always dreamed of doing, and she was glad he was finally getting around to it.

He ripped open a band-aid wrapper and peeled the backing off of the bandage. "So…" he began tentatively, "a little birdie told me a crazy rumor that you weren't singing anymore." He caught her eyes, questioning with his expression whether this could really be true. She saw the disbelief and the concern mixed with the curiosity.

"That little birdie talks too much," she quipped sardonically. "Anyway, although that was true for a while, it's not _technically_ true anymore. Besides, I'm sure that birdy also told you that he's forcing me into completing my unfinished record. So, not singing is officially not an option, even if I'd like it to be."

"Do you want it to be an option?" he asked, gently placing the bandage over her cut and smoothing it down with his thumb.

She pondered his question, honestly not certain anymore. For the longest time, it had been her only option. To sing meant opening herself up to the pain and suffering she couldn't face. But now, ever since she'd sung those few lyrics, she'd had the urge to sing again. To deal with everything the only way she really knew how. "I don't know. I guess I'll have to figure that out."

He traced the outline of the band aid longer than necessary, looking for an excuse not to let her go. "Well, that foresaid birdie mentioned that you're producing yourself." He looked into her eyes, and he recognized the apologetic, uncertain look.

"I'm sorr-" she began, but was immediately interrupted.

"Don't apologize," he said, squeezing the hand he still held in his. She looked down at their joined hands, wondering to herself why she hadn't moved hers yet when he was clearly done bandaging it. "I just…" he paused, choosing his words carefully. "If you ever need a friendly ear in the studio, I'm here, okay?" he offered.

"Friendly, huh?" she asked, a small smile on her lips as she remembered the many times their interactions in the studio would definitely not have been considered 'friendly'. Quincy's perfectionist ways led him to be an asshole in the studio sometimes. That much she certainly hadn't forgotten.

"Well, we are friends, right?" he asked, the sudden seriousness of the question clear to both of them. They had yet to define what exactly they were these days.

She took a deep breath, before nodding silently. "I guess we are," she whispered, the hesitancy clear in her voice. She wasn't entirely sure this was a wise step. Had she ever really been friends with Tommy? She couldn't be sure. She couldn't really remember a time when her heart hadn't raced at his approach or his touch. His grip on her hand, and the resulting tingling feeling it was causing from her toes all the way up to the ends of her hair, didn't help her answer that question. She needed to get out of there. Quick.

She tugged slightly on her hand, and he reluctantly loosened his hold on it, knowing that the moment he did so, she'd pull back. She did exactly as he'd anticipated, standing up as soon as she'd reclaimed her hand. "Well, I'll see you," she said quietly as she headed towards the door. She stopped before she stepped through it, remembering something important. She turned back to look at him, still seated on the couch. "Let me know when you sign the papers," she said, reminding him in the nicest way possible that, friends or not, their marriage was still over. "And the press—"

"Don't worry about the press. They'll see the truth soon enough," Tommy commented. As she nodded and strode through the door, he just hoped this 'truth' was more in line with his wishes than hers.

He watched her leave before collapsing in the chair behind his desk. He was feeling a bit unsettled from the whole encounter. Her obvious heartache, it only magnified the pain he was feeling himself. To see her breakdown that way, it was beyond heartbreaking to watch. Especially when he'd barely been able to comfort her before she'd pushed him away. The distance between them was disconcerting and he could feel the panic flowing through him each time she mentioned the divorce papers. It wasn't going to happen. He couldn't let it.

He had to look on the positive side of what had happened that night. There was nothing she had revealed that he saw as a real problem, or something they couldn't move past. And she had agreed that they were 'friends' which, considering their initial meeting, was almost a miracle. And she'd allowed herself, even if just for a second, to open up to him in a way she hadn't since before Chloe's death. This night, their conversation, was a major step in the right direction. Even if she didn't see it that way, he couldn't help but feel a bit hopeful.

He took a deep breath, acknowledging that the one thing he needed was time. They'd already made so much progress. But she seemed determined to push through their divorce. He needed to find a way to stall it while he showed her the man he could be. He also needed the time to push himself in her path enough so that she couldn't deny that they were still meant to be.

He lounged back in the chair, resting his feet on his desk, preparing for a long night of brainstorming ways of holding off the pending divorce, when the answer suddenly hit him. He knew exactly what he needed to do. It was a risky move, but it was an offer he was certain she wouldn't refuse. He could only pray that his plan would actually work.

* * *

_What had she done?_ As she maneuvered the Mustang towards Sadie and Kwest's house, she mentally scolded herself for the amount of weakness she'd shown in one night. That had not been even remotely how she had planned for that conversation to go. As she'd walked to the parking lot after leaving Tommy's office, the whole half-hour she'd been with him began to replay in her head. And she wasn't sure what had gotten into her.

She had intended to be firm and distant, telling him that they were going to be divorced, friendly co-workers. She was going to press him about releasing a statement to the press acknowledging their status as a separated/divorcing couple. And what exactly had she accomplished by talking to him? Nothing. Well, other than almost telling him everything.

She sighed, disappointed at how every rational thought had left her mind the moment she'd stepped into that crammed office with Tommy. He still affected her, far more deeply than she'd ever want to admit. When he was in the room, she couldn't think clearly. She'd even agreed to be his friend. What had she been thinking? She and Tommy couldn't be friends; she'd learned that lesson a long time ago.

She couldn't believe how vulnerable she'd allowed herself to be. Breaking down in front of him? Not that she had a lot of control over her emotions, especially when it came to her daughter, but being vulnerable and emotional was the last thing she wanted to be in his presence. It fooled her into thinking she could rely on him. And it gave him hope, and she knew that was unfair.

What a mess. She had no idea what she was going to do next.

She pulled down a side street, finally seeing Sadie's house coming into view. But it wasn't the only thing she saw. There was also swarm of paparazzi waiting outside the house.

_Just great_, she thought, sighing loudly._ Just what I needed tonight_. She'd forgotten how annoying the photographers could be.

Since the driveway was the only way into the house, and she honestly didn't want to drive around for hours waiting for them to go away, she pulled up, driving through them as they snapped their photos. She didn't smile or frown, she just kept her eyes focused ahead of her as she pulled into the garage and then proceeded to run into the house.

She slammed the door behind her, more than ready to fall into bed. It had been one rough day and she was ready for it to be over.

As she passed the living room on the way to the stairs, she suddenly heard her sister's voice calling her from the inside the room. "Jude!!"

She halted, turning on her heels to pop her head in the living room. Sadie was sitting on the couch, with a highly displeased look on her face. She got the distinct impression that her sister had been sitting there for a while, just waiting for her to get home.

"What's up?" she asked, pretending to be oblivious to her sister's mood.

"Can we talk for a minute?" Sadie requested, more of an order than a question.

"Honestly, I'm exhausted. Can it wait until tomorrow?" She really wasn't up for _another_ conversation. After spilling everything to Jamie, and then the draining conversation she'd just had with Tommy, she was done.

Sadie glared in her direction. "No. Enough evasion. Just sit down and talk to me, before I'm forced to do something I don't want to do."

Despite the night she'd had, Jude wanted to laugh. She really had missed her sister, even her ferocious temper. "And what would that be?"

"I haven't thought that far yet. But it will be bad. Like leaking all your embarrassing pictures to the press. Believe me, whatever it is, it will be much better for you if you just sit down and humor me."

She dropped into the chair across from Sadie, knowing her sister's evil mind well enough to know it really was safer just to appease her.

"What's going on, Jude? You disappear for two years, out of the blue, without a word to anyone. Now, you're back just as suddenly and you don't think you need to give any explanation? You've been avoiding talking to me since you got back, I know. Look, I gave you a break because of everything that went on. But it's time to talk, to tell me what the hell has been going on with you."

She took a deep breath. If she told any more people what had happened, soon everyone but Quincy himself would know. And that was dangerous. Besides, with Sadie being married to Kwest, she knew that word probably would get back to Tommy, and she couldn't let that happen. "Sadie, I really am sorry about everything. Honestly, everything just got too much for me to deal with back then. I had to go. I knew if I would have stayed I would have gone crazy. I know how selfish it was to go the way I did. But back then I wasn't thinking about how my decision would impact anyone else. I know now how much I hurt you all by leaving without a word, but at the time it didn't seem like I had any other choice. I don't expect you to understand, but I do hope you can forgive me." She hoped this half explanation would be enough. She hated lying to Tommy and her sister, but she didn't feel like she had any other choice.

"Jude, there's nothing to forgive. I just want to help you. To be there for you, if you'll let me," Sadie commented, visibly softening after listening to Jude's explanation.

She moved to her sister, and leaned down to hug her tightly. "Thanks. Really. But honestly, I've talked about it enough. I'm just trying to move on, to move forward from everything that happened. If that's even possible." She leaned over and quickly kissed Sadie's cheek, then rushed out of the room and up the stairs before Sadie could ask her any more questions. She doubted her sister was satisfied, and if she knew her sister, she was even angrier now at her continued evasion. But she was too tired to deal with any more. She was exhausted, mentally, physically and emotionally. As she made her way up to her bedroom, she didn't even bother changing before she climbed into bed and snuggled under the covers. She just wanted to sleep, to let her mind rest from thinking about Chloe, about the pain that she still felt whenever she thought about her daughter. Or the pain that squeezed her heart whenever she thought about Tommy, about what he'd said, about the feelings and the desires she couldn't seem to suppress. She just wanted to breathe, to sleep, without feeling like she might crack at any moment from the heartbreak of all that she'd dealt with regarding Chloe and Tommy. After two years, however, she was beginning to doubt she'd ever get to that point.


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**A/N:** Thank you for all your comments. I really appreciate the feedback! Sorry the ridiculous delay. My schedule plus writer's block does not make me a happy camper. Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think!

**A/N2: **The first song is Skillet's "Comatose" and the second is Holly Brook's "What I Wouldn't Do" (Neither of which I own).

* * *

Chapter Fourteen:

It had been a long five days.

Tommy tossed and turned, the sheets tangling around his body as his mind raced with thoughts of the one thing he still needed to do and had been putting off.

Today. He was going to do it today. He would make his 'proposal' to Jude, offer her the one he knew she couldn't refuse. He didn't know why he was so scared to do it. Well, he didn't want his offer to backfire on him. And he didn't want her to be mad at him again. They'd settled into a quiet peacefulness around the studio. When they passed each other, they exchanged pleasantries. And they'd even shared a coffee one afternoon. But he knew he needed to bump their reunion into the fast lane, before she had a chance to find a way to push through the divorce. And he was sure the proposal he had in mind was going to do just that.

Today. It had to be today.

He lay staring at the ceiling for what felt like hours. He had barely slept last night, or the four nights before for that matter, and he knew he wasn't getting back to sleep any time soon. He was far too anxious for that. He was apprehensive about talking to Jude, but this morning there was also a new anxiety. He was going back into the studio this morning to start recording his album. He was nervous and excited, and hopeful too. This was his new start and he intended to make good use of it.

He rolled himself out of bed, dragging his body to the shower. His eyes caught the neon green light of the alarm, which read 7:30 am. He laughed to himself quietly, thinking that no doubt this would be the earliest he'd arrived at the studio in a very long time.

As he sauntered through the doors of G-Major just after 8:00 am, he noticed how deserted it was this early. He stopped for a quick coffee in the kitchen before making his way to Studio A, where he was booked all day. He'd offered to give up Studio A to Jude, who he knew was also recording for the first time today, but she'd insisted he take it. She'd said she wanted a smaller studio anyway, since she was working by herself.

He dropped his stuff behind the soundboard and walked into the recording booth. He touched the microphone lightly, his mind taking him back to the last time he'd stood in this position. He'd sung background vocals on one of Jude's tracks on her yet to be finished record. She'd been four months pregnant and in a particularly sappy mood that day and her mood had been reflected in the song. It had been a love song, and she'd insisted it needed some male vocals in the background. And instead of Speid, who always usually sang in the background on her records, she begged him to do it, claiming that since the song was about him he should be a part of it. He didn't argue, regardless of the fact that he knew if this was the case, he would have sung on almost all of her songs. However, this one seemed particularly special for her, so he didn't protest. It had been fun being back behind the mic, and it was his work on that song that had sparked his interest in a solo record again. It had been something he'd always wanted, but after singing again, he felt the need to create music again and not just from behind the soundboard.

He grabbed his bag, taking out the songs he'd written. He'd written one just two nights ago and he felt certain that it was the one he should start with. It encapsulated everything he felt and everything he wanted.

He knew he had time before Kwest or the studio musicians arrived, so he sat down, nestling his guitar on his lap, and continued working on perfecting the song. He opened his mouth to sing the beginning, letting the power of the song and the lyrics overtake him.

_**I hate feeling like this  
I'm so tired of trying to fight this  
I'm asleep and all I dream of  
Is waking to you  
Tell me that you will listen  
Your touch is what I'm missing  
And the more I hide I realize I'm slowly losing you**_

_**Comatose  
I'll never wake up without an overdose of you  
I don't wanna live, I don't wanna breathe  
Unless I feel you next to me  
**_

He breathed deeply, the adrenaline pumping through his veins. The feel of singing, of finally expressing his words the only way he really knew how. It was so refreshing, so cleansing.

It was going to be a great day. He could feel it.

* * *

Jude sighed loudly, turning over and pulling her pillow over her head. She had to get up, she knew it, but she wanted to prolong the inevitable as long as possible. It hadn't even started and she knew it was going to be a terrible day. Things had been tense with Sadie, since their non-conversation, and she'd been doing her best to avoid her sister at all costs. She loved her sister, but they'd never had a very simple relationship and her disappearance and secrecy had not helped. And the pregnancy, the reminder of everything she'd had and lost, just made things even worse. She had been looking for an apartment, but nice, affordable apartments in Toronto were not easy to come by. She made a pledge to continue looking tonight after work. Work… right. The next reason she was dreading today. She had start recording the rest of her unfinished album today. She was anxious, excited and scared all at the same time. The mix of emotions left her feeling unsettled and unbalanced. And Tommy… well, she always saw Tommy at work. Hell, they'd even shared a few civil, even friendly moments since their talk. Which actually confused things even more. And it didn't help the crazy rush and mix of emotions that she felt.

The alarm began beeping loudly in her ear again and she finally pushed herself out of bed, towards the bathroom. As the spray of the shower pulsated against her skin, she mused that at least the sooner the day started, the sooner it would be over.

Within twenty minutes, she was running down the stairs, already late for her booked recording time. Considering she had always been late, she knew that Darius would be expecting it, so she wasn't worried in the least.

She grabbed a thermos from the cupboard and began filling it with the dark roast coffee that Kwest must have made earlier, before he left for work. He had kindly offered to drive in with her, knowing how nervous she'd be, but she'd politely turned him down. She needed to do this, face this on her own. It wasn't something new after all. Recording had become second nature to her, and she didn't think that kind of comfort would have disappeared, even after two years.

She took a long sip of the coffee before she grabbed her purse and her guitar and headed towards the door. Before she could open the back door to make her way to the garage, she heard the front door opening and quiet talking filled the silence that had previously inhabited the house.

"This way," she heard Sadie say to someone, and before she had a chance to wonder why Sadie wasn't at work, her sister entered the kitchen. She wasn't alone.

"Daddy!" Jude yelled, dropping her purse and guitar case and running to the familiar, yet older looking, man who had entered the room behind Sadie. She jumped into his arms, almost knocking him over in the process. She felt his arms tighten around her, and she let out a sigh of relief. She'd been more than worried about her first meeting with her dad. They'd been so close and she knew, next to Tommy, her departure would have affected him the most.

She finally released him, stepping back and taking in the man who stood before her. His features were a bit more distinguished, a bit older, but aging suited him. He looked handsome as ever. She glanced up, to look into his eyes, which were dark and full of hurt. She could see there would be no end to the reminders of the pain she'd caused.

She looked away, the pain in his eyes too much to take. She'd never meant to hurt anyone, especially her dad. She'd left to escape pain of her own, and in the process she'd caused pain to everyone who loved her.

She felt him touch her shoulder lightly, and she glanced tentatively back. There was the beginning of a smile on his face, and mingled with the hurt, there was relief.

"Jude, honey…"

"I'm sorry… I'm so, so sorry…" she whispered, feeling herself swept up in her dad's arms again.

"Shhh…" he soothed. As he ran his hands along her back, she closed her eyes, remembering all the other times he'd comforted her. She'd missed him so much. Really missed him. "Baby, don't be sorry. You're back, that's what's important. I was just leaving the airport and I called Sadie. When she told me, I rushed over here as soon as I could. It's just so damn good to see my baby girl again."

She pulled back, looking at her dad again. "It's good to see you too, believe me."

He wrapped his arm tightly around her shoulder, pulling her towards the couch. "So, fill your old man in on what you've been up to."

She smiled, happy to have the chance to just talk to her dad. It had been so long. As she settled into the couch, beginning to explain about her life in L.A., she guessed she'd be at work much later than she expected.

* * *

He'd been recording for hours, forgetting just how exhausting it could be. He collapsed behind the soundboard beside Kwest, ready to listen to the almost completed demo of his first new song in over five years.

As he heard his own voice filling the speakers, singing the intro he'd begun work on earlier, he almost couldn't believe how good it sounded. He wasn't being arrogant, he recognized good music and he knew this song would be a hit once it was finished. It needed some of the stronger rock elements but it was getting there.

_**I hate living without you  
Dead wrong to ever doubt you  
But my demons lay in waiting  
Tempting me away  
Oh how I adore you  
Oh how I thirst for you  
**__**Oh how I need you  
Comatose  
I'll never wake up without an overdose of you  
I don't wanna live, I dont wanna breathe  
Unless I feel you next to me**_

It was about her. Everything he did or thought was about her, and he never wanted to change it.

He breathed in deeply, absorbing the lyrics and the music he'd written. There was a new feeling rising within him, one he hadn't felt in a long time. It was pride. He was actually proud of the work he was doing. It was a nice change. After all, he hadn't had anything to feel proud about in a long time.

_**You take the pain I feel  
Waking up to you never felt so real  
I don't wanna sleep, I don't wanna dream  
'Cause my dreams don't comfort me  
The way you make me feel  
Waking up to you never felt so real  
Breathing life  
Waking up  
My eyes open up  
Comatose**_

He hoped that one day these lyrics would reach her. That one day she would understand how he felt, how he'd always felt. And if his plan worked, that day would be sooner than later. His thoughts turning to the conversation he planned on having with her today, he suddenly wondered where she was. He knew he would have noticed if she'd entered, even if she'd quickly darted across the lobby. He swore he could almost sense her presence, so he was sure he couldn't have missed her. Although, she should have been at G-Major over two hours ago and her absence made him a bit worried.

He swiveled his chair slowly to face Kwest. "Have you seen Jude yet?"

Kwest shook his head. "Nope. Sadie called in and said Jude would be delayed. Stuart got back from his business trip today."

"Ahhh." Now it made sense. Stuart was so important to Jude and they would likely have a lot to discuss. He breathed a sigh of relief, glad to hear that Jude was okay, and that she was still safely in Toronto. Where he could see her. Where he could convince her that they weren't as over as she thought they were.

* * *

Stuart kissed her once more before hurrying out the door to go home to Yvette. He'd wanted to stay and talk more but she'd convinced him that his wife deserved some of his time too. And that she wasn't going anywhere this time.

She eyed her watch, noticing that it was almost 12:00. She was really late, and she contemplated just not going in at all. But then she wondered what that would really accomplish. She'd just have to face recording for the first time tomorrow. She sighed as she stood up, figuring she might as well get the first day over with today.

She noticed Sadie lingering in the doorway, clearly wanting to say something. "You didn't tell him either."

"What?" she asked, confused by her sister's statement.

"Whatever it is that made you run. You kept it from Dad too."

"Sadie—"

"Don't you think you'd feel better if you just told us?"

Ignoring the question, she stared at her sister, glowing with beauty and happiness at seven months pregnant. She suddenly couldn't take it. She'd avoided really looking at Sadie for the weeks she'd been back, hoping in some way to ignore the fact that her sister was getting everything she'd ever wanted. But she couldn't do it anymore. Her growing belly, the glowing aura of pregnancy. It was too familiar. Too painful. She felt the ache beginning in her own stomach, as the memories of what that felt like washed over her.

"I'm moving out," she announced bluntly.

"Jude, that's ridiculous. You can stay here as long as you want."

"I'm sorry, I just.. I can't stay here anymore."

She could see Sadie's eye clouding up. "I'm sorry I've been pushing you. I just know that there's more you're not telling us. And I can see the hurt you're feeling and I want to help." The hurt in Sadie's own eyes was palpable, and she instantly regretted that she'd caused it.

She stepped a bit closer to Sadie, taking one hand in hers and squeezing it.

"It's not that. It's just too much. I need to move out. I'm not trying to hurt you. I just… I can't do this anymore. I'll be out as soon as I can find somewhere to go." And with that, she released her sister's hand, grabbed the belongings she'd dropped earlier, and strode out the door.

She raced towards G-Major, her hair blowing wildly around her face. The air felt good, refreshing. It wasn't her sister's fault, but she couldn't live there. Sadie was a constant reminder that some people had it all. She just wasn't one of those people.

As she finally pulled into a parking spot behind the G-Major building, she took a deep breath. She could do this. Well, it's not like she had any other choice, anyway.

She strode through the front door, almost bumping into Speid who was on his way out. "Hey! A friendly face," she said, hugging him tightly.

"Woah, dude. You okay?"

"I'm fine. It's my first day of recording today. And then I've got to really focus on finding an apartment. I just can't stay with Sadie and Kwest anymore. It's going to be a long day, suffice to say."

She glanced at Speid's smiling face. "What? There's nothing happy or funny about what I've just said."

"I think your favorite guitarist has the perfect solution for you."

"What's that?" she asked, eying him skeptically.

"Well, I found this amazing apartment in the St. George Towers at Bloor Street and Avenue Road. But it's a two bedroom place and I don't really need two bedrooms. But if a certain lady I'm quite fond of would like to be my roommate, I won't find myself with that much extra space. Especially with the way that we both live."

She laughed. She couldn't help it. Speid, her roommate?? Their days on the tour bus had been crazy. They were both so messy. And they both blared their music far too loudly. And neither of them liked mornings. At all.

She stopped laughing, pondering her thoughts for a second. Actually, having a roommate as similar to her as Speid didn't sound like a bad idea. "You know what, Speid, that's so crazy, it might actually work."

He smiled back, "So, we're roomies, then?"

"Well, what does this fantastic place even look like?"

He grabbed some papers out of his bag. "This is the floor plan I got from the realtor. There are some photos. And we could split the rent."

She skimmed over all the information quickly. It was a nice apartment. Her half of the rent was more than affordable, and living with a friend, one who knew everything, could actually be a good thing. "Okay, I'm in."

"Good, Lady Roommate. I'm headed over there to sign some papers. I'll call you later with all the details."

"Thanks, Speid. You're saving my life here." She kissed his cheek, and she noticed a blush forming on his cheeks. Then out of the corner of her eye, she saw that the reason for his blush had nothing to do with her. Karma was staring at them, and she wasn't looking too thrilled. Jealous was the correct term for the way her eyes were glittering, burning into both she and Speid.

"See you later," he said, quickly escaping out the front door. Jude walked by Karma, not even acknowledging her presence. Honestly, with all the other problems she had, she wasn't at all concerned with Karma. She was relieved that her living situation was solved. Although, she couldn't help but wonder what challenges living with Speiderman would present.

She made her way towards Studio B, glancing through the glass of Studio A as she walked by. Her eyes met Tommy's briefly and she waved politely before continuing on to her studio.

She took a deep breath, dropping her stuff in the chair behind the soundboard. She quickly adjusted the knobs on the soundboard, wanting to get started as soon as she could.

She walked slowly into the recording booth and stood behind the microphone. She glanced through the glass, as if she was expecting someone to signal her from the other room. She couldn't kid herself. She knew exactly what she'd been expecting. Tommy always counted her down before she began to sing. Then he'd smile reassuringly, telling her without words that he knew she could do it, that she was going to be amazing. It was in that moment, when she stared into the empty room behind the glass, that she realized what an integral part of her recording process he was. She's gotten so accustomed to his presence that she'd taken him, and how much he'd added to her recording experience, for granted. He'd told her once, after one of the five or six times she'd fired him, that she needed him because he always pulled her through, told her to keep going. At the time, she hadn't realized how true those words were. But now, without anyone in her musical corner, she could see how right he'd been. He had always been her rock. If she'd been having a really rough day, personally or professionally, he's the one who had always talked her down, made her feel like she would be okay. It was amazing how much of the good stuff she'd forgotten by focusing on the harmful things he'd done.

Now she was alone. The hardest day of her recording career and she had to do it all by herself. Honestly, she wasn't sure if she had it in her.

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to take her position. She placed the lyrics she'd chosen to sing on the stand in front of her. Knowing that the silence of the room was being recorded and that she was wasting time, she opened her mouth, tentatively singing the first few lines of the song. A song that perfectly fit how she was feeling about today, about Tommy, about everything.

_**Feeling like I can't forgive  
But I want to  
It's like I don't know how to live  
I'm afraid to  
I used to think, take them as they come  
Without hesitation  
Now it's like my head is filled with lies  
And persuasions**_

The emotions that were swirling around in her were indescribable. There was pain, but it was a healthy, cathartic type of pain. Telling her that, as difficult as it was, this was what she'd needed all along.

She breathed deeply, continuing to let the words flow.

_**What I wouldn't give just to forget  
What I wouldn't give to get some rest  
So I can remember how to live again  
I want to live again **_

Am I desperately losing this fight  
When I should really be choosing my flight

What I wouldn't give just to forget  
What I wouldn't give to get some rest  
So I can remember how to live again  
I want to live again

The words poured out of her, like blood pouring out of a deadly wound. She felt exposed, naked. But, miraculously, she felt a bit better. For the past two years, she had been living with a feeling of suffocation. Like her own pain and suffering might eventually envelop her and never let her go. That feeling had lessened significantly. She felt a measure of liberty from the pain, but more importantly, from her constant struggle to hide her pain and her emotions. She couldn't help but wonder if the freedom she'd been seeking had actually been inside her all along.

* * *

It had been a long day. He'd seen her rushing through the lobby, even received an unexpected wave. And since that moment he'd been dying to barge into Studio B and talk to her. But he had to restrain himself. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her.

He spied her through the glass of Studio B, her blonde hair cascading down her back and swaying from side to side as she packed up her belongings. Beautiful as ever, beautiful as the first day his eyes had been drawn to her.

The time was now, before she took off. Gathering his courage, his knocked lightly on the closed door. Jude spun around, and he swore he saw a small smile form on her lips. She waved him in and he paced through the door as she continued to fuss with her belongings.

"How did today go?" he asked, wanting to start the conversation as politely as possible.

"Oh, you know. Okay, I think. You?" she asked, stuffing loose sheets into her messenger bag.

"Good. Very good. Do you have a minute? There's something we need to talk about." It was now or never. His courage would only last so long.

She turned towards him, her gaze hesitant. "Honestly, Tommy, I'm tired."

"It won't take long. I have a proposal for you. A compromise of sorts."

The curiosity shone in her eyes, along with skepticism. "What would that be?"

He had planned a whole speech, with a preamble and logical reasoning. But his nerves forced him to just bluntly blurt out his proposal. "Give me two months without moving forward on the divorce. Allow me to try and convince you that we, us, can work again."

The anger flared in her eyes. "Why would you think I would possibly agree to that?"

"Because I know you won't like the alternative."

Now was the tough part. The part she _really_ wasn't going to like.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I've already told you I'm not signing the papers. If you don't agree to this, I'm going to stick to that. I'll dig my heels in and make our divorce the legal battle of the century." He threatened this, and he prayed that she bought it. Not that he'd actually have the guts to do it, to hurt her like that. But there had to be some incentive for her to agree to his plan.

Anger and disgust were evident in her shining blue eyes. "You wouldn't."

"Do you really want to test that? You, better than anyone, know what I'm like when I'm determined. And I promise you, I'm determined to show you that we can work again."

"How does this supposed deal even remotely benefit me?"

"Because if, in two months, you don't want to stay married to me, I'll give you the divorce. No questions asked."

He watched her expression turn from one of skepticism and annoyance to a pondering look. She was really considering it. His heart was beating out of his chest. Two months wasn't a long time, but he knew she wouldn't agree to any longer. He was pushing it as it was.

"Two months. Then you'll give me the divorce no questions asked."

"We won't need it," he answered cockily, far more confident than he really felt. "But hypothetically, yes. If you still want the divorce after two months, I'll go along with it."

Her thoughts were so mixed. Two months wasn't an extremely long time. And if she could just hold out that long, she'd get an uncontested divorce from him. That was a lot better than the alternative. She wasn't honestly sure if he'd actually make their divorce an ugly legal battle but she was certain she wasn't ready to risk it.

She sighed loudly and he could tell she was close to giving in. "What exactly would that mean as far as us for the next two months?"

"It means you don't avoid me. We hang out, we talk, we see where things go." He silently prayed that he wasn't pushing his luck. He'd contemplated asking for more than this but he knew there was a slim chance she wouldn't even agree to this much.

"Fine, Quincy. Two months. Then it's done. Over." Before he had a chance to feel too relieved, her eyes began sparkling and he knew she was up to something. "And I know exactly what we can do first."

"What's that?" he asked tentatively, always able to recognize the look on her face when she had something up her sleeve that she knew he might not like.

"You can help me move. I can't stay at Sadie and Kwest's anymore, for obvious reasons." His eyes flashed with recognition, and she knew that he'd be the only person that actually would understand.

As much as he wished she was moving in with him, he was certain that was not where she was headed. "Where are you moving?" he asked, the curiosity bubbling inside of him.

"An apartment in the St. George Towers, on Bloor Street and Avenue Road."

"Well, it will be nice for you to have some space of your own, to think and sort everything out."

Jude's lips twisted nervously. "What?" he asked, his stomach dropping at the look on her face.

"I'm going to have a roommate. One by the name of Vincent Speiderman."


	16. Chapter Fifteen

Hi! First I want to thank you all for your patience with this, and my other story A Family Affair. You guys are the best.

Another person who is the absolute best is my wonderful beta! Gwynwhyver, I owe you a lot for guiding me to make this chapter what I wanted it to be. And making sure I didn't rush things when I was getting impatient and frustrated with myself. You're fantastic and irreplaceable!

Well, without further ado, I will leave you with the chapter. It's the longest one so far and definitely one of my personal favourites, and I hope it is yours too. Anyway, whatever you think of it, love it or hate it, please let me know! I really appreciate and thrive off the feedback you guys give me.

Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter Fifteen:

Tommy shook his head slightly, trying to rid himself of the confusion that had suddenly enveloped his mind. He knew there must be something wrong with his brain for him to think that she'd just said she was moving in with Vincent Speiderman. Her ex-boyfriend.

No way. It was impossible. He had to have heard her wrong.

But when his eyes regained their focus on her, he took in her amused yet slightly uncomfortable expression and heard her words replay back in his mind. Still he couldn't believe it. "You didn't just say that you're…"

"Living with Speiderman," she finished for him. "Yes, I did. And you are helping me move in with him."

He could have sworn he felt the earth shifting under his feet. Hell, he wouldn't have been surprised if a portal from another dimension opened right in front him. _What the heck is going on? She's moving in with another man! A man who has kissed her, who used to be her boyfriend. Who, at one point in her life had been in love with her._ That had been years ago, but the nature of their past relationship had never escaped his attention.

This was certainly an unexpected turn of events. He strained to hold back the jealousy that had begun churning in his stomach.

He couldn't help noticing Jude's amusement had won out, the smirk on her face making him fully aware that she'd been expecting and was now relishing the predictable jealous reaction that was evident on his face. He had never been able to hide his feelings from her, even when he'd wanted to. "Do you really think that's a good idea?" He could anticipate her reaction before the question left his lips, but couldn't stop the words from forming.

"I do actually," she answered shortly, cutting off any further comment from him.

He sighed loudly in resignation, watching her turn her back on him to continue packing up her things. He could tell by the tension in her body that she was annoyed. Well, at least he knew that some things hadn't changed; she still hated when he questioned her decisions. She was independent and stubborn to a fault.

Recognizing that antagonizing her wasn't going to get him any closer to a reunion with her, he grabbed a page with some scribbled lyrics on it and held it in front of him, like a shield protecting him from her wrath. He moved slowly towards her, holding the paper towards her as some sort of peace offering. "Well, I'm not going to pretend that I like it. But it's your choice to make, and I have to respect that. Besides, I couldn't stop you even if I wanted to. Not that I ever could stop you from doing what you wanted." A small laugh escaped his lips as he thought of a few of the situations she'd gotten herself into by not listening to him or anyone else.

As she turned back towards him, a smile already beginning to form on her lips, he saw her take in his 'shield' of paper. He could see her fighting her amusement as she tried to wipe the smile off her face, but her body betrayed her, shaking with quiet chuckles as her eyes roved the ridiculousness of his pose. "Now, that you're definitely right about."

He sighed, relenting that if she was determined to do this, he was going to be as helpful as he could. After all, he had to get onto her good side somehow."So, when do you require my services for this move?"

"I'm not sure. Speid was going by this afternoon to close the deal."

Hearing footsteps, he turned around to see Speid sauntering into the studio. "Well, speak of the devil."

"Talking about yourself, are you now?" Speid asked, the venom evident in his words and tone.

He was taken aback by the viciousness of Speid's comments. They'd never been close, and they'd barely spoken since Jude's and SME's return, yet this unconcealed anger was a new, inexplicable, development.

Jude spun around after hearing the ferocity of Speid's words. Speid was one of those all or nothing guys. He was either your friend or he wasn't and there really wasn't any gray area. And it was clear that he wasn't Tommy's friend. She knew it was all her fault. Tommy and Speid had barely gotten along in the best of times, but everything she had confided to Speid had no doubt made him feel even more hateful towards Tommy. And that's exactly what she didn't want. She didn't want any more anger, resentment or fighting. She just wanted to move on with her life.

Glancing between Tommy and Speid, she could feel the tension in the room rising to a fevered pitch. Wanting to avoid a possible testosterone-fueled argument, especially one in which Speid might accidently say something that could tip Tommy off to the truth, she quickly gathered up her last few items, stuffing them into her bag. She positioned herself in between the two men who were now glaring deadly looks at each other. She noted that Tommy surprising hadn't come back with any biting remarks, but instead seemed to be pondering Speid's comment. That was perhaps more dangerous for her than if he had flown off the handle.

Speid's eyes were the darkest she'd ever seen them, the anger pulsing from them. "Speid, did you get everything settled for the apartment?" she asked, desperate to avert his attention from his rage at Tommy.

Without looking at her or altering his angry expression, he answered, "Yep. And we can move in immediately."

That was great news. Until she figured out how to be around Sadie without her own heart shattering, it was the only way.

"Wonderful," she said, the relief rushing through her. But as she analyzed the situation, she realized there would be time for relief later. Right now, she had to stop World War Three from breaking out in this very studio. She moved her body even further between the two men, trying to block Tommy's view of Speid. "So, Tommy, do you think you can help me move on Saturday?" she asked.

As he nodded in reply, he watched her eyes shift nervously between him and Speid, cognizant to the fact that nothing good could come out of talking to her in Speid's presence. The kid's eyes were still boring into him. The expression 'if looks could kill' was a major understatement in this case. Still completely oblivious to what could make Vincent suddenly feel so murderous towards him, he decided to do something he rarely did. He was going to let things be instead of starting an argument with Speid. Fighting with one of Jude's closest friends likely wasn't going to get him too far with her, and regaining her trust and love was all he cared about. So, instead of sating his curiosity, he decided to celebrate his small victory tonight. He'd achieved what he wanted for tonight anyway. She'd agreed to his plan. He had to remember he couldn't rush things. Their tentative truce was so fragile, and there was still so much hurt between them that he had to be careful.

"Well, I'm going to get going. I'll see you both tomorrow," he said, nodding a goodbye to Jude.

He noticed her sigh of relief, and the half smile she shot him as he strode quickly by Speid barely even paying attention to his presence. Speid's hatred, although puzzling, wasn't important. He had two months to change her mind about the divorce. Two months to finally set things right again. He didn't have the time to get distracted with petty arguments. The only thing that was important was getting his wife back and tonight had been a step in the right direction.

* * *

The moment Tommy vacated the room, Speid rushed towards her. "Are you okay?"

She waved off his question. "I'm fine. Speid, I need to talk to him. I believe you were one of the people who told me to deal with the issues I have with him. So, I can move on, right?"

He nodded, "I know what I said, but I'm worried about you. Lord Squinty Frown is in your blood, we both know it. He has some sick influence over you. And I'm just afraid instead of moving on, you'll end up moving back… towards him."

Her head shot up in surprise; that wasn't an option. There was just too much pain and history between them. "It's too late for that. About two years too late."

She made the immediate decision not to tell Speid, or anyone, about her deal with Tommy. Because although it had been liberating to share her heartache with someone, she was beginning to have regrets about telling anyone what Tommy had drunkenly said to her two years ago. It had severely tainted both Speid's and Jamie's view of Tommy. Not that either of them had been fans of his in the past, but for her sake they had tolerated him and they had a respectable working relationship. But now, when either of them were in the same room with Tommy, she felt like she had to play constant interference. She trusted both of them not to blurt out her secret, but at the same time she knew both men were loyal to a fault. And when they became angry on her behalf, she was fearful that one of them might say too much.

This particular development, this deal she had struck with Tommy, it was between her and Tommy and that's how it was going to stay. Besides, another two months and there'd be nothing to tell. She'd have her divorce and she would be moving on, towards her new life.

Her eye caught a glance of Tommy through the glass as he made his way towards the exit. He smiled at one of the employees and her heart began racing quickly. That smile had always affected her far more than she wished it did.

She shook her head, trying to refocus her mind on her plan to move on with her life after the divorce was finalized. But as she watched his familiar gait gliding towards the exit, she realized that, first, she was going to have to survive the next two months.

She refocused her attention on Speid, who was still looking at her worriedly. And she got an idea, one sure to take his attention off Tommy. "Now, when you say we can move in immediately, do you really mean _immediately_?

* * *

The next four hours passed in a whirlwind. She'd returned with Speid to Sadie and Kwest's house and broke the news to a tearful Sadie that she was moving out that night. Her heart had sunk at her sister's tears, but she'd held strong. Hugging her sister, she'd whispered in her ear that it was all for the best, and that she'd still only be fifteen minutes away. She'd also hugged Kwest, and given him a long overdue thank you for finding her, for bringing her back to her life. Sadie had offered her some furniture from their family home, which Stuart had sold when he'd married Yvette. She had graciously accepted, happy that she would have some of her old things around her. Things from _before_ her life fell apart. She'd grabbed her small suitcase of clothes, the only thing she'd really need until Tommy helped her move the bigger furniture on Saturday.

And now, here she was, lying on an air mattress in the living room of her new apartment. It was after one o'clock in the morning and her mind was supposed to have already been lulled off to dreamland, but she couldn't sleep. She couldn't manage to turn her brain off; her mind kept racing with thoughts of Tommy, oscillating between how amazing he'd looked that day and how inappropriate and unhelpful those first thoughts were.

She turned over, catching a glimpse of the still body of her roommate through the darkness, lying on a matching air mattress only a foot away from her own. She was sure she caught the sight of movement in his direction, and wondered if he was actually sleeping. "Speid? You awake?"

"No…" he whispered sleepily.

She laughed. Heartily. Loudly. For the first time in a long time. And it felt so good. Within minutes, the laughter was so contagious that she heard Speid's deep laughter joining her own.

After recovering from her fit of laughter, she settled on her back again. "I really needed that."

"Me too. Milady Roommate, I do believe this partnership is going to work."

There was a moment of comfortable silence before Jude spoke again. "Hey…" she said hesitating for a moment, wondering if she should turn the conversation in the serious direction she was about to. Before giving herself a chance to change her mind, she spit the words out. "Do you… you know… ever miss her?"

"All the time," he answered instantly, without thinking. "You?" he asked after a moment.

"No, I actually don't miss Karma," she joked lamely. Through the darkness of the room, she heard the rustling of his sheets as he turned to face her, the unanswered question hanging between them. "Yeah, I do. I do miss him," she said, her voice quiet and small as she finally admitted this to Speid and herself. "It doesn't change anything, and I wish I didn't. But I can't help it."

Silence fell between them again, both of them lost in their own thoughts of the ones they loved but couldn't be with. And a long while later, the only sound that could be heard from that living room was the soft intake of breath, as two minds and hearts led their owners to dreams that they felt would never become reality.

* * *

The next morning, she strode into the empty Studio B, trying desperately to ignore the loneliness that pervaded the room. As she stowed her stuff behind the soundboard, she noticed the fresh muffin and the extra-large coffee lying on the counter in front of the controls. A smile spread across her face as she picked up the muffin. It was banana chocolate chip, and there was only one person in the whole world who knew of her addiction to that particular combination. She took a healthy sip of the coffee, which had been prepared just the way she liked it, and made a mental note to herself to thank him later. It was a sweet gesture, so reminiscent of the way Tommy had been while they were dating and when they were first married. People who didn't know him thought him a hardened man, a jerk. Many people did not see the thoughtful person that he was underneath; this was a nice reminder of that side of him, one she'd chosen to forget herself.

After enjoying her morning treat, she set up the first take of the day. As she stood behind the microphone, her eyes were drawn towards the empty room behind the glass.

Before even singing a note, she walked towards the wall and collapsed in a chair. She took a deep breath, one full of despair. Who was she kidding? She couldn't do this alone. Yesterday, besides the liberation she'd begun to feel from singing again, was miserable. With no one to talk to, to consult with, the loneliness of it had been almost too much to bear. Considering that she'd spent the last two years alone, she found this sudden discomfort with loneliness disconcerting. She began to wonder if she'd really changed that much in just one month. Or maybe the painful loneliness had always been there, buried beneath her many other painful emotions.

She wasn't sure, but she was certain she couldn't deal with it any longer. She pulled her cell phone out of her pocket and automatically dialed a familiar number. Her finger hesitated, hovering over the "send" button for a second. Pushing her doubts away, she pressed her finger down. She needed someone. She couldn't be alone any more.

* * *

He spent the duration of the next day adding the final touches to "Comatose." Darius had finally heard it and decided that, as soon as it was ready, it was going to be released as his big comeback single. No pressure, right? He'd been furiously perfecting the song all day and it hadn't been going very well. Despite everyone telling him the song was perfect, he'd been getting increasingly frustrated as the day went on, and his mood wasn't improved by what he observed in the neighboring studio. He'd been so busy he hadn't had a chance to talk to Jude at all, but even if he had had time to speak to her, he wasn't sure he'd have been able to; her attention was completely caught by someone else anyway: Speiderman. Was this kid actually a threat? He had never really thought so. But what he was seeing was start to change his mind. Speiderman had been working with her all day in Studio B. He knew that she was producing SME now, but he was pretty sure that they weren't working on any SME material. Wally and Kyle were nowhere to be found and whenever he passed by Studio B on his way to grab a coffee, he'd seen Jude behind the microphone, not Speid.

The only conclusion he could draw was the most painful one: she had allowed Speid in to help her with her music. He could feel the pain shoot straight into his heart. He and Jude had always clicked so well musically, understood each other on a level that he'd never experienced with anyone else. The fact that she was turning to someone else for help with her music now... it irked him. He supposed it shouldn't have been surprising that she'd looked elsewhere for help. There was so much distance between them, and that wasn't going to be healed overnight. That didn't make him feel better, however, when he saw her turning to Vincent Speiderman.

He took a deep breath, shoving some papers off the soundboard in frustration. The worst part was that it was like a ticking clock had been embedded in his brain. Two months. _Am I an idiot to think I can change her mind in only two months?_

No, he wouldn't go there. He wouldn't take on that kind of defeatist attitude. Giving up on her after Chloe died, that was part of the reason they were in this position. He wouldn't give up again; he couldn't. He pushed himself out of the chair suddenly, consumed with the notion that if he had only two short months, he'd better not waste one single day.

* * *

By the time Speiderman left to go meet Wally and Kyle, Jude was certain she'd done the right thing by inviting him to help her. He wasn't her first choice; there would only ever be one person who truly brought out the best in her in the studio. But she wasn't ready to go there yet. She wasn't sure she'd ever be ready for him to see her that vulnerable again.

She listened to the track she'd been working on, so proud of how it was coming together. Speid had done masterful things with the arrangement and some of the lyrics, but the dynamic just wasn't the same as it had always been with Tommy. Was it crazy to say she actually missed his perfectionism? She laughed to herself, surprised at her own thoughts.

"Something funny?" he asked, noticing the chuckle from the doorway. He'd seen Speiderman take off and figured he'd steal his chance to catch Jude alone.

She turned her head to look at him, clearly more than a little surprised by his presence. He noticed that she deftly ignored the question, instead saying, "Thanks for breakfast. It was a very nice surprise."

He smiled in response, just glad that she was eating; with how thin she'd gotten he was slightly afraid for her health. He had made a vow to take care of her, whether she knew that's what he was doing, and he had every intention of keeping it.

"How are things going?" she asked.

"Good, I think," he said simply. He didn't want to talk about his career. It was important, but not as important as putting together the pieces of their marriage.

_Good_? She knew things in the studio had been going a lot better than _good_ for him. She swiveled her chair so that she was facing him. "I think you're being modest. I've heard a lot of buzz around the studio about this new single of yours," she said, her voice full of pride. Just because they weren't together anymore didn't affect how happy she was that he was finally getting his life together and taking advantage of his chance to shine. His new song was all she'd heard about every time she ran to the kitchen to get her caffeine fix. It was apparently a killer rock song. She had to admit, she felt a wave of nostalgia and sadness at not being the first one he shared his musical genius with anymore.

He relaxed visibly at her words. "You should know better than to listen to what people around here say. They've been known to exaggerate."

"Oh come on. I know it will be great," she said, her voice becoming serious. He was such a walking contradiction sometimes; he had a cocky streak a mile wide but also had a tendency to doubt his own abilities, especially musically. She hated when he doubted his own talent. He was an amazing producer and a soulful vocalist. And he was always downplaying both of these truths.

He sobered with her heartfelt compliment. "Thanks. That means a lot to me." And it did; he hadn't heard something so touching in a very long time. He glanced at the ground, slightly embarrassed by her praise. "How about you? How's it been being back in the studio?" he asked, purposely changing the subject.

"It's been good. Singing again, I honestly didn't realize how good it was going to feel."

"Well, I'm glad you're back at it. If there's anyone who's meant to do this, it's you." He was thoroughly enjoying the light atmosphere that had developed between the two of them in the last few minutes. It was new, and it was very welcome.

And then, before he could stop the words, he heard them slipping from his lips. "Will you go out for dinner with me tonight?" he asked impulsively. Their conversation was going so smoothly, he couldn't help but push his luck. He needed to take advantage of every chance he had to spend time with her.

He could see her lips pursing, forming the word "no", when, suddenly, she paused. Feeling like she needed further convincing to agree, he said, "It's just dinner. Starting over as friends."

He could see the internal debate going on in her mind. His heart beat nervously, tightening as she turned towards him to give her answer. She bent to scribble something on a loose piece of paper, and held it out towards him. He took it, staring at her in confusion.

"Pick me up at eight at my new apartment. The address is written there," she said, and he stared at her in disbelief as she quickly grabbed her stuff and passed him out the door.

He stood still, unable to fathom for a moment that she'd actually said yes to dinner. Allowing thoughts of her already living with Speid to pass through him and instead focusing on the good news, he glanced at his watch and saw that he had two hours to plan something special. _Come on Quincy, wow her_, he thought to himself, hoping he could actually pull it off.

* * *

She breezed quickly through the front door of the apartment, after narrowly escaping a run in with the paparazzi. They'd be waiting close by as she approached her Mustang at the G-Major parking lot, and they'd begun snapping pictures and asking the most invasive questions. _Why are you living at your sister's house? Where have you been for two years? Why did you decide to come back? Was infidelity a factor in your disappearance from Toronto? Are you and Tommy reconciling? Are you getting a divorce? Any chance you two will try for another child?_ Kwest had mentioned that the paparazzi had made up some bogus and some hurtful stories around the time of her disappearance from Toronto two years ago. They'd ranged from alien abduction to Tommy getting caught red-handed in a steamy affair with Karma. After a while, he said the stories had died down. But now that she was back, she could see they were even more determined than ever to find out what happened then and what was going on now between her and Tommy. Every morning, the photographers were parked outside Kwest and Sadie's house. She wasn't even certain how they'd figured out she was living there. She figured a photographer must have followed her home and discovered it, and of course jumped on the chance to reveal some big rift between her and Tommy because she wasn't living with him. She hoped now that she wasn't living there that the photographer's presence would cease. Besides being at Sadie and Kwest's in the morning, almost every night they were parked either at G-Major or outside of Kwest and Sadie's again. The photographers were so slimy and thoughtless; they'd had her almost in tears or in a fury a few different times. But she couldn't let them see that they bothered her or it would only get worse.

She tried to brush thoughts of the paparazzi out of her mind. They had been hounding her since she was 15 and had won the contest. It was nothing new, although it was hard to deal with when they alluded to Chloe or her troubled relationship with Tommy.

She made her way to her bedroom, which was actually empty except for the clothes that she'd hung in the closet. She grabbed two different outfits and headed to the bathroom to shower and get ready.

Despite her intentions, she found herself taking her time, carefully applying her makeup and nearly obsessing over which outfit suited her more.

She caught a look at herself in the mirror as she was applying mascara. And it suddenly hit her. _Why am I primping? This is Tommy I'm meeting with, the husband I'm divorcing. The man who, every morning for two years, saw me without makeup and with my hair sticking up everywhere. Why do I suddenly care so what I look like?_

If she was honest, she felt like she was getting ready for a date. A first date. And her feelings were so conflicted about the idea that she was going on a date with Tommy. She was supposed to be letting go of him and ending their relationship. So why was she trying to look nice and impress him?

She didn't know and she didn't really want to analyze her motives, afraid of what she might find out.

She didn't have any time to think further on the subject as she heard a loud knock on the door. She checked her appearance in the mirror one last time while simultaneously chastising herself for caring what she looked like.

Swinging the door open, she was immediately blown away by how gorgeous he looked. He looked great all the time, but something about the way he'd cleaned himself up, dressed up a bit by wearing a dark blue dress shirt and dark wash jeans, got to her. He still had his leather jacket on, not that she'd ever change that. That jacket epitomized who he was. "Hi," he said, smiling at her. She always marveled at how he could look sweet and seductive at the same time. She backed up, trying to release herself from the pull she was feeling towards him.

She was beautiful. No, that didn't even begin to describe how she looked tonight. Stunning, breathtaking… neither of these words seemed to fit either. Looking at her, he didn't think he'd ever have a reason to stop smiling again. But as he followed her towards the living room, his eyes caught sight of something and his expression contorted suddenly into one of anger.

He'd promised himself to be calm even in the face of things he didn't like, which he knew he was bound to find since she was living with Speid. But this?? He eyed the two air mattresses side by side. "You've got to be kidding me."

She spun around to see what he was referring to, and almost started to laugh. Something about Tommy's jealousy of Speid had always seemed funny to her, even when she'd been sixteen and dating Speid. She began to formulate some kind of explanation in her mind, but then realized she didn't need to._ I'm moving on. Not back_, she reminded herself. _I don't need to justify myself to him_. "Something you want to say, Tommy?"

She watched the struggle playing out behind his eyes. Someone had once said that the eyes were the window to the soul. This was never truer than with Tommy Quincy. Everything she ever wanted to know about him she could find out from looking in his eyes. They'd always told her whether he was angry or feeling turned on. And right know they were telling her that he was fighting the urge to blow up at what he'd seen.

He took a deep breath, doing his best to keep his jealousy and anger to himself. "Nope. Nothing."

He could tell she was surprised with his restraint, and he smiled internally. He liked surprising her, and more than anything he wanted to show her that he was different, or that he was at least capable of changing. "Ready to go?"

He nodded, gesturing with his palm for her to go first. As she began to walk out, she could have sworn, out of the corner of her eye, she saw him kick the air mattresses further apart.

* * *

If the evening had ended with the drive to the restaurant, she would have been more than content. Tommy had picked her up in the Viper, which was her favorite out of all of his cars. As she settled in the familiar seat, she relished the feel of the leather against her skin. She'd missed that feeling. A lot. It was amazing how one could get so attached to a car. Not to mention the driver.

She found herself mesmerized by the closeness of him; in the confined space of the Viper, everything about him was even more attractive. The way his hands glided over the steering wheel, the scent of the fresh soap on his body, the slight part of his lips as he drove. She couldn't stop her mind from savoring every delicious detail. Or remembering he'd used those hands and lips in other, more intimate, circumstances.

She'd been so lost in her thoughts she was taken by surprise when Tommy softly told her, "We're here." He'd quickly jumped out of the car and had her door open before she could process what had happened. She'd mindlessly taken the hand he'd held out for her, a look of disbelief crossing her features, unable to believe this is where he'd taken her. Stepping through the doors of the restaurant, Jude's mind began racing uncontrollably with memories. She just couldn't believe this was the restaurant he'd chosen. She wanted to feel mad and outraged. But the happy memories flashing in her mind wouldn't allow that. Johnny's had been one of her favorite restaurants. It also happened to be the restaurant Tommy had taken her to on their first official date five years ago, and the place where they had celebrated their engagement. They'd been constant patrons of this restaurant while they were dating and during the first year or so of their 

marriage. It held a special place in her heart, and she could feel herself almost beaming, just being within its four walls again.

Recognition lit up the maitre d's face, and he began laughing heartily. Tony was a stout, cheerful Italian man who had been the maitre d' at Johnny's for over 30 years. "Mr. and Mrs. Quincy. It's about time, we saw you two back in here."

The smile dissipated when she heard Tony call her 'Mrs. Quincy.' The 'Mrs. Quincy' Tony knew only existed in fairytales and during the ride to the restaurant she'd found herself becoming wrapped up in them. But Tony's words were a cold reminder of the reality of their situation; in two months their marriage would be over.

She shook her head at the foolish thoughts she'd been having off and on ever since he'd asked her to dinner tonight. She couldn't afford getting wrapped up in the fairytale that used to be her life. Could she?

Tony kissed her cheek, and made small talk with Tommy as he led them to their regular table.

She settled into her seat, noticing that the wine they always used to have for dinner was already on the table. When they were alone and perusing their menus, she glanced up at him. "I should be really mad at you, you know," she stated, unable to hold a grimace on her face.

"But you're not?" he asked hopefully.

She sighed. What could one night hurt? Didn't she deserve one night of fantasy, of forgetting the pain that her reality held. "Tomorrow. I'll be mad at you then. For now, I'm just going to enjoy this."

As she pored over the menu, Tommy watched her, predicting exactly what she was going to order. And how many times she was going to change her mind. _She'll order the Chicken Alfredo, changing her mind twice before she decides on it_, he mentally recorded. "So, what do you think you're going to have?"

"I'm thinking Fettuccine." _One_, he mentally counted. "Wait… maybe I'll have shrimp," she mused, clearly oblivious to his amusement. _Two_.

The waiter arrived at the table, and asked if they were ready. Tommy raised his eyebrows questioningly. "You go first. I'll be ready by the time you order," she said, her eyes still glued to the menu. He smirked, remembering that she did this almost every time they'd eaten at restaurants in the past.

"I'll have the steak, medium rare, with stir-fried vegetables," he said, handing his menu to the waiter.

Jude glanced up from her menu, still feeling uncertain about her choice. "And I'll have Chicken Alfredo, please." As she handed her menu to the waiter, she caught Tommy's glimmering eyes and noticed his amused smirk.

"What?" she asked, puzzled at his obvious amusement.

"Nothing. I'm just happy we're here."

She smiled, and she couldn't help agreeing. She was happy. Beyond happy even.

"Do you remember the first time we came here?" she asked.

"Of course. It was our first date. I remember driving over here, my palms were so sweaty on the steering wheel of the Viper I thought we were going to get into an accident. Your father already disapproved, and all I could think was that he'd never let me see you again if we got into an accident on our first date."

She laughed unabashedly. "You never told me that before. You weren't the only one that was nervous," she confided, completely caught up in their walk down memory lane. "I remember I tried on fifty different outfits. I was so close to calling and canceling because I couldn't find anything to wear."

His eyes shone, his memory taking him back to exactly how wonderful she'd looked that night. She was so young. So innocent and untouched. And she had been his. They'd both known it. "You looked beautiful." Then he corrected himself. "You look beautiful."

He saw the blush color her cheeks at his statement. How long had it been since he'd seen her react that way to him? Way, way too long.

She looked away, trying not to get too completely sucked into the moment, although she knew she was failing completely. "Let me ask you something."

"Anything."

"Anything? Really?" she teased, smiling.

"Well, pretty much anything," he answered, smirking.

"What's the one thing you've always wanted? I mean, now that you're getting your solo career, is there anything else you want to do? Any else left to accomplish?"

His eyes pierced into hers and she could feel the blush spreading across her cheeks again. "That's an easy one. There's only one thing I've ever really wanted. You. Always only you."

She was taken aback at the directness and sincerity of his answer. Coming from someone else it might have sounded like a cheesy pick-up line, but not from him. Tommy Quincy never said things he didn't mean, and he wasn't one for bullshit.

"What about you? What do you want to do?" he asked.

"Honestly, I don't know. I'm going to see how producing SME goes. And my own album. For so long I said that I didn't want to sing again but… it just feels so right. So comfortable." She looked away from him, feeling suddenly like the conversation was hitting too close to home, to the vulnerable, broken part of her. For one night she didn't want to think about all of that. She just wanted to relax and enjoy his company and not overanalyze everything. Tomorrow there would be time for regret. Tonight, in this glorious moment, she couldn't force herself to pull back.

As they ate their meals, they continued reminiscing, bringing up memories from different visits to Johnny's. "Remember the time that woman stalked you the entire night? She watched you all night and then when you went to the bathroom, she actually followed you. I think she was an obsessed BoyzAttacker." She laughed loudly, at both the memory and the embarrassed look on Tommy's face.

"I also remember the time the paparazzi photographer fell through the window trying to get a picture of us."

"Yeah, I still don't understand what was so exciting about catching us eating food."

He smiled blissfully, elated at how the evening was progressing. She was relaxed, and they were joking. Besides the slight caution in her words and actions, it was as if someone had transported them back in time. He wanted to freeze tonight in his brain and relive it over and over again.

As they finished their meals he, unbeknownst to Jude, had signaled the waiter to bring out the surprise of the evening. He watched with delight as she caught a glance of the approaching waiter and what he was carrying.

"That can't be! Wait! I think it is…" Her jaw dropped as the waiter placed the large dessert plate in front of her. One of the many times they'd dined here, she'd "invented" her own dessert by combining chocolate cake, cheesecake, a vanilla ice cream sundae, and various fruits from a fruit salad. Every time after that, without even asking, the waiter had brought her what had become known as the "Harrison" in a tribute to her maiden name. He remembered every time she'd ordered it he'd always think how unappetizing it looked, and knowing how grossed out he was, how she'd always tried to get him to have a bite.

She dug happily in, and he watched her contentedly. It had taken him a long time, but he'd finally realized that all he needed to be happy was for her to be happy. And, at least for one night, he seemed to have succeeded.

She couldn't believe he actually remembered the "Harrison." As she enjoyed every sinful spoonful, she tried to remember how long it had been since she'd tasted something so good. 

Smiling to herself, she scooped up a bit of cake, ice cream and strawberries and held the spoon out towards him in homage to their old routine. "Want some?"

"No, that concoction is all yours, girl." She shivered at his familiar use of the word "girl," a simple term that sounded so endearing when it came from his lips.

As he paid, which he insisted on doing despite her declaration that she would pay for her meal, she lingered over her coffee, not wanting to leave the restaurant just yet. Leaving would mean breaking the inevitable spell, the magic that this evening held. Tomorrow she had to go back to reality. The reality where she and Tommy were getting a divorce. Where she was alone. Where she was brokenhearted.

He felt the irresistible need to linger too. After years of missing her, of wanting to see her face and hear her laugh, she was finally sitting in front of him. And it felt like not a day had passed since the last time they'd been in this exact spot, dining in this restaurant years ago. Except he knew it had; more than a day had passed. In between the last time they'd eaten here, they'd lost their daughter, and somewhere along the way they'd lost each other too.

As they sat, drinking their coffee and chatting idly, they both finally acknowledged the lateness of the hour and the need to go. Without speaking, they walked outside and Tommy politely opened the passenger door of the Viper for her. The ride back to her apartment building was silent, neither one wanting to break the spell or say anything to ruin the lighthearted evening they'd had.

Once they reached the door of her apartment, which Tommy had insisted on walking her to, she spun around to say goodbye. She misjudged the distance between them and ended up standing much closer to him than she'd intended to. One step closer and their bodies would be touching; this fact was so obvious, so tempting, for both of them. For a few timeless moments they stood, their eyes locked, entranced by the closeness of their bodies.

"I should go," she finally forced herself to whisper, averting her eyes from his to break the moment. "Thanks for dinner," she said, unable to find the words to thank him properly for the magical time she'd had.

As she turned to open the door, he lightly touched her arm, halting her movement. Their eyes locked once again, and he slowly leaned in towards her. She sucked in a breath as his lips descended, caressing her cheek softly. He squeezed her hand tightly before backing up slightly.

She stood completely frozen for a moment, unable to focus on anything but the pleasurable burn of her skin where he'd kissed her. When her mind finally broke through the cloudiness his touch had created, she raised her key to the lock, noticing her hand was shaking violently as she attempted to fit the small silver key into the keyhole.

"Good night, Jude," he murmured, and her eyes met his eyes, shining with desire and love, once more before she let herself into her apartment.

She smiled weakly at him as she closed the door, leaning her back against it the moment she closed it. Her breathing was quickly becoming ragged and her heart was pounding out of her chest. And without warning, without understanding exactly why, her body slid helplessly to the floor as she burst into gut wrenching, heartbreaking sobs.


	17. Chapter Sixteen

Hey there! So, finally I have an update for you. I know it's been a while, but I hope you'll think this one was worth the wait. At 17 pages, it's definitely my longest chapter and it has something I think you've been waiting for. So, I certainly hope you enjoy it!!

A special thank to InstantStarFan who read this all over for me and Gwynwhyver who did a fantastic beta job! You both are amazing! Thank you for your help!!

Thank you all for reading and commenting. I really do appreciate thrive on your reading your comments so please keep them coming!

Well, enjoy the chapter and please let me know what you think!!

* * *

Chapter Sixteen:

Speid made his way to the bathroom, preparing to brush his teeth and collapse into bed. It had been a long night, full of lifting, moving, and rearranging furniture with the help of Kyle and Wally. He used the term "help" very loosely considering his bandmates mostly spent their time goofing around while he tried to get the furniture from his dad's place into the new apartment.

As he approached the doorway to the bathroom, he heard something that stopped him dead in his tracks. A noise so soft he was surprised he'd even heard it. But it was definitely there, and it sounded like it was coming from the direction of the entranceway. He crept quietly, grabbing a spare drum stick from his room first just in case this sound was that of a burglar trying to make off with the little amount of possessions he and Jude had moved in so far. As he walked down the hall, his eyes adjusting to the darkness, he realized belatedly that a flimsy wooden drumstick likely wasn't going to be much of a deterrent to a burglar.

As he stepped into the small entranceway, the drumstick slipped from his hand and all thoughts of an intruder disappeared from his mind. He fell to his knees, immediately cradling Jude's crumpled body. Her whole body was wracked with sobs so agonizing it was painful to hear, and he could feel her shaking even as he tried to hold her firmly in his arms.

"Shhh…" he whispered soothingly in her ear. He was shocked at the sight of her so broken up, and he honestly had no idea what to do. So he just sat holding her, keeping her company in the darkened hallway.

He breathed a huge sigh of relief when her loud, heart wrenching cries began to dissipate.

"Are you okay?" he whispered softly. She didn't say anything, but he could feel her head nodding. "So you're not physically hurt?"

"No, I'm fine," she said finally, her voice weak.

"Then what the heck happened, dude?"

"Nothing. I'm fine," she insisted. He felt her push herself back from him and stand up. He jumped up quickly, switching on the light, needing to see her for himself. Her eyes were swollen from the tears she'd been shedding, and her eye makeup was smeared on her face. He blocked her path, not letting her walk past him without explaining herself.

"You know, Jude, I don't normally like to argue with you. Mostly because you're stronger than me and can kick my ass. But, on this, I have to disagree. There's definitely something wrong."

She glared at him, and he winced at the harsh look. "Speed, just leave it alone."

"No." He stood strong against the force of her menacing look. He cared about her too much to let her lock everything up inside of her. She'd done that for at least two years and it clearly hadn't done her any good.

He thought for a moment that she was going to resist further, but then he noticed her lip quivering. As he moved closer to her, she swiped furiously at the tears he saw re-emerging.

He swung his arm around her shoulder and pulled her to the newly set up couch. As he settled both of them down on it, he reached for one of her hands and held it tightly in his own. "What's going on?"

"I was with Tommy," she said, her voice quiet. Her eyes were closed, as if she couldn't even bear to talk about it.

As soon as he heard the name Tommy, he could feel his anger boiling. He'd kill that fucking ex-boybander. Had Squinty Frown not hurt her enough?

" What do you mean _with_ Tommy? What did he do?" he seethed, clenching his jaw and, for Jude's sake, trying to keep his rage dormant.

"We had dinner. And he didn't do anything. Well… nothing bad. And that's exactly the problem."

Confusion settled over him. She opened her eyes slowly, and he heard her inhale deeply. "What do you mean, Jude?" he urged, knowing there was definitely more to this.

"Well… it was perfect," she finally said, only adding more to his confusion. "He took me out to dinner and… he was like the old Tommy, the one that I fell in love with. The one that I married. It reminded me of everything I loved about him and everything good that we shared. Coming back here, opening that door and facing the realization that tonight was just a fantasy… it was like losing him all over again." She swiped a stray tear off of her face.

He could see the pain in her eyes, and wondered how he could possibly help her. He still wanted to kill Tommy, but that wouldn't be helping her. That would only make himself feel better. Everything that Squinty Frown did seemed to hurt or confuse her. It wasn't fair and Jude didn't deserve to be hurt anymore.

She continued, her soft voice pulling him out of his thoughts. "It was like he took us back three years in time. Before everything bad happened. And… for one stupid night I actual let myself indulge in that. It was silly. I shouldn't have done it. But I couldn't help myself. It's my fault. I did this to myself."

He squeezed her hand, trying to give her some measure of comfort. She looked so sad, so confused.

Knowing there was probably nothing much else he could do, he said the only thing he could think of to try and cheer her up. "Well, fuck, Jude. Do you want me to punch him out for being such a gentleman for a change? Because I will. You just say the word." He brought his fists up and began flailing them in the air in front of him.

Keeping up his faux fight, he stole a glance at her to gauge her reaction. Her eyes and his met, and as she looked up at him, and at his waving fists, it was evident her shock was replacing her heartbreak. And then, all at once, he heard her begin to laugh.

"You." She began, still laughing wildly. "Look," she continued, more laughter filling the air. "Ridiculous."

"What?" he asked, standing up and jumping around the room, punching at invisible enemies. "You don't think I can take him?" He smiled at her, relieved that his ploy to cheer her up seemed to be working.

She wiped tears of laughter off her face. "Actually I know you can't. You do remember the time he caught you kissing me when we were seventeen, right? I'm pretty sure it only took him one long stride and one hand on the back of your shirt for him to drag you away."

"Hey!" he said, putting his hands up in protest. "We were dating so we weren't doing anything wrong. I obviously wasn't expecting someone to rip me away from kissing my own girlfriend."

"Well, I guess you didn't know Tommy very well then, did you?" she asked, a serious look replacing the happiness on her face again.

Since they couldn't get away from talking about the past, Speid figured he might as well try and make the best out of it. "Whatever I can say about Squinty Frown, he usually had your back way back then. He was like your freaking bodyguard. Can you imagine if you and I had had sex? He would have probably castrated me with his own fucking hands!" He knew he was getting a bit outrageous, but outlandish statements usually made Jude laugh. And that was his only mission right now.

She chuckled lightly. "You know he probably would have. Or he would have locked me in the studio forever, so I could never see you again."

He watched her closely, noticing that she seemed in a much better state than she had been when he'd found her at the door. Seeing that she was doing a bit better, it was time to find out more about what had happened tonight, and what exactly it meant for the future. He was about to bring the conversation back around to that subject, when Jude surprised him by doing it for him.

"He's not all bad, you know. I know you think, because of what he said, that he is. But he's not," she asserted. "I wasn't the only one that lost her. Sometimes, I think I forget that."

"So, not meaning to play devil's advocate here, but what does it mean? What does tonight mean?"

She sighed in frustration, and he squeezed her hand supportively. "I don't know. I mean, if I could forget that night…. I don't know. I just don't know. But I can't forget it, so I shouldn't even toy with that idea. The words that he said to me that night replay in my head every day. That's why I need to move on. Tommy and I had our chance and we couldn't make it. It wasn't our fault, but it still happened. And there's too much… history. Too much stuff that can't be forgotten or ignored. It's done. I just wish he could see that."

He asked the question that was begging to be answered. "Are you ever going to tell him what happened that night?"

She looked up in surprise, meeting his eyes in a pleading look. "No. And you can't either. It would kill him, and that's the last thing I want to do. We just need to let go. And that's the problem with nights like tonight. They make me wonder how I'm every really going to be able to do that." She suddenly began yawning wildly, but Speed could spot a faker a mile away. But when she got up, pretending to be so tired she needed to go to get ready for bed, he didn't stop her.

"Hey," she said, turning back all of sudden looking puzzled. "Where did all this furniture come from?"

"My dad had a bunch in his basement that he said we could use. I forgot that me, Kyle and Wally had already made plans to go away for the weekend on a camping trip so we won't be around to move it in then. We didn't want to leave ya without a couch to sit on, so..."

"So does that mean that you have an actual bed, Vincent Speiderman?"

He winced at her use of his dreaded first name but because it was Jude, perhaps the closest friend he had, he let it go. This time. "Yes, I do have a _real_ bed, comfortable mattress and all. Care to share, Lady Roommate?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows in a mock suggestive way.

She laughed loudly. "Tempting as that is, it's quite alright. The air mattress is just fine until I get my own furniture on Saturday. Or maybe I'll try out the nifty new couch."

That's when he remembered Jude's plan to move her furniture in on Saturday – with Tommy's help. And that maybe leaving them alone wouldn't be the best idea, especially after tonight's developments. "Hey, if you need me to help, though, or run interference, I'll stay in the city. Or if you want to escape Tommy Q, you can always come camping with us and take refuge in the great outdoors."

She laughed. "Tommy and I don't need you to run interference. I need to learn to be around him without turning into an emotional basket case. Besides, I'd be more worried about you two killing each other than anything. And after spending months touring with SME, I'd definitely have to say no to the camping. I know what it's like on the road with you three for an extended period of time. I'd like to keep what little sanity I have left, thanks." She smiled at him, walking over and kissing his cheek softly. "Thanks, though. You're my personal lifesaver, Vincent Speiderman."

"Ouch. Hated first name usage **again**, dude. But that's alright. I still love ya anyway. In a totally platonic way, dude. Just so, uh, ya don't get any ideas." He laughed, winking at her.

"Love you too, **dude**. Totally platonically, of course. Just so _you_ don't get any ideas." She laughing, punching him playfully before walking away.

He watched her trail off to get ready for bed, wishing that what she'd said about him being her lifesaver actually was true. As her friend, he wished he could save her from everything. But he couldn't. Thinking of how he'd found her, and her explication that Tommy really wasn't a bad guy, he was starting to get worried. And there was nothing he could do to stop what was happening. All he could do was watch helplessly as she seemed to be slipping back into Lord Squinty's orbit.

* * *

She lingered in the bathroom for longer than necessary, hoping that the extra time would help her avoid any further discussion with Speid. She could tell he was worried about her; she knew she was lucky to have such a good friend, one who cared enough to push her to talk when she didn't want to. But she was emotionally drained. She didn't even know what to think, or how to process what had happened tonight. It was just… too much. And honestly, Speid wasn't the only one worried; she was also extremely troubled by her own response.

She took extra care washing her face, hoping to wash all evidence of those silly tears away. As she scrubbed and scrubbed, her face only became more red and puffy. "Great," she said to herself, sighing loudly.

As she took in her own tear-stained reflection, she mused that she couldn't let Tommy get to her like that anymore. Their marriage was over. They were getting a divorce. Two months and it would all be final.

Even as she recited the words in her head, however, something about them sounded wrong. It was probably because she never in a million years thought she'd ever be divorcing Tommy. She'd been 19 when she married him, and perhaps a bit naïve, but she had genuinely assumed that it was going to last for the rest of their lives. Maybe she'd been setting herself up for failure thinking something so silly. After all, couples never seemed to stay together anymore. But she had really thought she and Tommy were different. After they had finally gotten together, she'd been stupid enough to think nothing would ever have the power to tear them apart. But she hadn't been able to see the pain and heartache that the future was going to bring to both of them.

It had been a lot easier than she'd ever imagined for them to be ripped apart. After Chloe died, they'd stopped talking. He had stopped touching her, stopped looking at her in the way that made her feel like she was the only one in the room. Their demise wasn't all his fault, though, and she knew that. She'd been purposefully distant, not knowing how to communicate the depth of hurt she felt. During the year or so of their marriage before Chloe died, he would never have tolerated her distance or silence. He would have prodded and annoyed her until she told him what was wrong. Hell, most of the time all it took was a look and she cracked. But after Chloe, she didn't offer forth her feelings and he didn't attempt to pull them out of her. That was when they'd begun to walk separate paths. And, they'd never been able to find their way back to their shared life.

Maybe that's what was so hard about tonight. The way he'd been looking at her, it was the same way he used to look at her. Like she was the only one in the world that mattered. Reality had been suspended for an evening, and it made her feel like they could go back. That they could find their way back to way they used to be. But they couldn't. Too much had happened. Too much had been said. Whatever small, unbroken pieces of her heart she'd harbored before had shattered with his words that fateful night. And she didn't know if she'd ever be able to put them back together.

She sighed loudly, eyeing her disheveled appearance once again. She needed sleep. Maybe her brain would be clearer in the morning. She doubted it, but it was worth hoping for, anyway.

As she padded quietly back into the living room, she was relieved to find the room empty. Speid could be a complete idiot at times, but he had an innate sense of knowing what she needed. She was definitely thanking God for that right now.

She turned off the lights and snuggled under the covers on her air mattress, praying for sleep to overtake her.

But it wouldn't. As she lay in the middle of the room staring up at the ceiling, all she could see was Tommy. How he'd looked tonight. How his eyes had sparkled when he'd reminisced about their first date. To make it worse, all she could think about was how she had felt his body so close to hers as his lips had hovered over her cheek.

And then, for the first time in a very long time, her mind was filled with a distant memory, one she hardly ever let herself think about. It was the day the doctor told her and Tommy that Chloe wasn't going to be born alive. As she felt her mind transporting her back there she tried to fight it, but some part of her wouldn't allow that. Wouldn't allow her to go on not facing that memory any longer.

She remembered crying so hard that day that she hadn't been sure if the tears would ever stop flowing. The pain shooting through her heart had been worse than she'd ever felt before. After they'd received the news, Tommy had held her in his strong, comforting arms. But when she'd lifted her head to look into his face, she hadn't seen strength. She'd seen utter and complete devastation. In an unconventional show of emotion, she remembered the tears sliding freely down his cheeks, sliding onto her own face as he'd grasped her close.

As her eyes had met his, she'd seen the deep pain of the moment shining back at her. She saw the heartache that neither of them could verbalize. Something that had previously been whole was now broken. The gut wrenching pain, the very same that she'd felt, was exposed in that moment with one glance into his eyes.

That was the last time she'd ever seen that look in his eyes. The next time she saw him, later that day, she remembered that a cold, empty stare, the mask of a man she didn't know, had overcome his features.

But it was not the cold look that her mind held onto now. It was the broken eyes of her devastated husband that held her attention and wouldn't let go.

* * *

He kicked the front door shut, dropping his keys on the table just inside the door before jogging up the stairs towards his bedroom. _Their_ bedroom. It would always be theirs. They'd shared far too much in that room for that to ever change.

As he stripped off his dress shirt, the white memory box still lying on the floor near the closet suddenly caught his eye. He paused mid-motion, just staring at it.

It had been weeks since he'd taken it down and looked through it, and for some inexplicable reason he hadn't been able to put it back. He felt closer to his daughter while having that box in sight. That small white box held all proof that she had been a part of his life; that, for eight months, she had grown inside of Jude. Not that he needed anything to remind him of the little girl he would never get to hold. Every day, she was on his mind. Every day, he thought of how old she would be, what she would be doing if she were alive.

Since Jude's return, his thoughts of fatherhood had only been magnified. He'd never thought about being a father when he was young. When he'd been married to Portia, she had toyed with the idea of having a baby. Under no uncertain terms he'd refused. At eighteen years old, he didn't want a baby. He actually remembered being horrified at the idea. Tommy Quincy, a father? Those two things did not go together. Not that he'd thought he'd be a bad father. His own father hadn't been a bad one, just absent. Like his own father, he just didn't think he had it in him to be there for a child. And, although it was harsh, when he'd looked at Portia, he did not see a woman he wanted carrying his child. Truth be told, within months of marrying her, he'd already known he didn't love her. Never had. So, when she suggested they bring a baby into that situation, he'd balked at the idea. It had been the last straw, the catalyst that finally forced him to ask for the divorce.

When he'd finally gotten together with Jude, they'd never talked about children. Their whole relationship had been a whirlwind. They'd only been dating for eight months when he'd proposed on the spur of the moment, and four months later Jude Harrison had become Jude Harrison Quincy. He knew it was cliché to say that his wedding day was the happiest day of his life, but it was. After fighting to stay away from her for three years, she was finally his. It had been a small intimate gathering with only their closest friends and family. They'd even managed, by some stroke of luck, to keep it out of the headlines until after they were married. With everything happening so rapidly, the subject of children hadn't seemed pressing.

So, when she'd surprised him, only seven months into their marriage, with the news that she was pregnant, the unadulterated joy that had risen within him had been unexpected and undeniable.

This time, the prospect of having a baby hadn't frightened him. In fact, just the opposite, he'd been beyond excited. He had known, and still knew, that Jude was the one, the only woman he wanted carrying his children. The only woman he ever wanted to be with. She was the only woman who had ever made him feel like he could be a good father.

When she'd been pregnant, every morning he'd reveled in the feel of her swelling stomach underneath his hands. He'd been a slave to her every whim, trekking out at 2 am on occasion to pick up just the right brand of potato chips to sate her cravings. She'd insisted on recording up until the end, claiming the hormones actually gave her extra inspiration. Like clockwork, however, by three o'clock in the afternoon, the tiredness would hit her and she'd take a nap in his office. So many days he remembered just sitting in his office, catching glimpses of her sleeping instead of doing the paperwork he'd intended to do.

He'd only become more and more excited as the pregnancy progressed. He hadn't been able to stop his mind from racing with the possibilities of what life held for him and Jude and this new family they were creating. When they'd found out they were having a girl, he'd actually started picturing what she might look like. He had visions of her looking just like Jude, with blonde locks and big blue eyes; at least, this is what he'd always hoped. They'd even given her a name. Chloe. Original and unique. Just like their little girl was going to be.

After making it so far, they'd both been completely blindsided by the news that something was not right. It had been a routine doctor's appointment, and although Jude had complained that the baby hadn't kicked at all that day, in their inexperience they hadn't realized that there was any cause for alarm. But he'd known the moment the technician began the ultrasound that something wasn't right. There had been a look of pure panic on the man's face, which he'd tried unsuccessfully to mask. Jude had begun to question him frantically, and he put her off, saying he'd go get the doctor.

When the doctor began breaking the news to Jude, he hadn't needed to listen. He knew.

After the doctor had finished his explanation, he had reached for her, holding her limp body against his own as they cried. They cried for the loss of the baby they had loved, and the future they had been counting on.

In one moment everything had changed. And there was no way to take it back or make it better. Chloe was gone.

The doctor had continued talking, mentioning as politely as he could that they had to choose from two delivery options; she could wait and deliver naturally or they could operate. He remembered his head was spinning. He hadn't wanted to think about any of that. The delivery was supposed to be a happy occasion, not the sorrow-filled day it had turned into.

Jude had immediately requested surgery, and within an hour, she had been wheeled into surgery while he waited in the waiting room. Waiting for nothing. Waiting for the baby that would never be born.

He vaguely remembered calling Sadie and Kwest who, with Stuart and Jamie, rushed to the hospital. He had been hugged by them all, but had received no comfort. What comfort was there to be found?

And when he'd seen Jude only a few hours later, she'd barely even spoken to him. He'd been too tired, too distraught to even fight it, even as the same behavior continued for months. They became like opponents in their separate corners. Instead of leaning on each other through the worst time of lives, she retreated into silence, he withdrew into his drunken rampages. Anything to avoid the truth of what had happened to them.

He shook his head, pulling himself out of the memories as he wiped at the tears he hadn't even realized were falling.

The pain he felt was still palpable; it was an emptiness that he knew would always be there. But Jude's return had given him a clearer perspective than he'd ever thought he'd have again. The searing pain had clouded his faculties, allowing him to think horrible things about her, about her distance and silence. He'd baited her, fought with her so many times in the months following Chloe's death, wanting her to argue, to scream, to show him some sign that she was in as much pain as he was. But that hadn't been fair, and he could see that now. She had been coping as well as she could, with the loss of her daughter and a drunken, out of control husband.

He had failed her. They had failed each other.

But if tonight proved anything to him, it was that it wasn't too late to put things back together. He had to believe that. The way she'd responded to him tonight, it was like old times. They were the couple they had always been, before they'd been struck by tragedy. The way he'd heard her breath catch when he'd leaned in to kiss her cheek. He'd been so tempted to kiss her properly, but he didn't want to scare her. He could feel her gradually opening herself back up to him, and he wasn't going to screw it up. Not this time.

They couldn't go back. He wasn't deluded enough to think they could. But they could go forward together. And that's exactly what they both needed, whether she realized it or not.

* * *

If he thought he could start building right away on the progress he'd made, he was sadly mistaken. The next few days, it was blatantly obvious to him that she was doing her best to avoid him completely; the way her eyes would barely meet his when they passed in the halls. When he talked to her, she spoke only what was necessary before excusing herself from the conversation.

It was now Friday and they'd barely interacted all week. It was beyond frustrating. He knew he wasn't alone in what he'd felt when they went out. But now it was like she was pretending it had never happened. After three days of being shunned, he'd had enough. He needed to find out what was going on with her.

He began to head to Studio B to talk to her when Darius stopped him. "Hey T – can I talk to you in my office?"

"Sure, D, just give me a min—" he said, continuing on his path towards Studio B.

"Now, T!!" Darius yelled, his voice booming throughout the hall.

He spun on his heels, rolling his eyes in frustration as he made his way to Darius's office. He'd had an unsuccessful day in the studio, distracted by thoughts of Jude's distance. All he wanted to do now was track her down and talk to her. Had he scared her? Moved too quickly?

As he walked into D's office, he was surprised to see that he didn't need to look any further to find Jude. She was standing right in front of him, alongside Speid, Kyle and Wally. Speid nearly growled at his entrance, and Tommy couldn't help but notice the warning glance that Jude shot him.

As he moved towards Jude, Speid quickly positioned himself between the two of them. Whatever that kid's problem was, it was starting to get really, really annoying.

Darius's booming voice reminded him of where he was, however, and he turned his attention back to his boss. "As you all know, G-Major regularly has showcases of its artists. Well, this month, as my new or returning artists, I want all of you to perform two songs. Two new songs. The showcase is next Friday. Don't let me down!!" he exclaimed loudly. And as quickly as he'd arrived in Darius' office, D motioned for them all to leave.

They all shuffled out into the hallway, Speid still sticking closely to Jude's side. But before Speid could drag her away, he called, "Jude!"

Her head spun towards him, her eyes revealing how nervous she was.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?"

He caught the little nod she gave Speid before all three members of SME walked away. Why was it that those two seem to have private little signals between now? He tried to push the anger aside, remembering that beating up Speiderman wasn't going to help him win any points with Jude.

He gently took her hand, and, surprisingly, she didn't resist the contact. He pulled her lightly into Studio A, knowing very well that it would be the only place they'd actually have any privacy.

As soon as they were safely inside the room, she wrenched her hand lightly from his grasp and moved away, as if finally realizing that she, in her avowal to move on, shouldn't be allowing that.

"What's going on, Jude?" he asked, trying as best he could to keep his frustration at bay.

"What do you mean?" Instead of looking at him, her eyes were focused on something on the floor, a clear indication to him that she knew exactly what he was referring to. She never could look at him when she tried to lie to him.

"I mean the other night… it was… amazing. And now you're avoiding me."

Her eyes finally met his, shining with tears he hadn't expected. "The other night was about the past. I needed some time to…"

"To distance yourself from me again, right?" he asked, finishing her thought for her.

She didn't say anything, her gaze falling on something in the lobby. He smirked to himself, at the ways he still knew her. She couldn't respond, and he knew very well that that meant the answer was something she didn't want to admit to.

He approached her slowly, catching her off guard because of her averted stare. He bent his head close to her ear, and he could feel her body tensing even as she leaned towards him. "I think you'll find that harder than you wish it was," he murmured softly. He felt her shiver slightly before she pulled herself away from him.

He couldn't help the smirk that seemed to be plastered on his face. He still got to her; physical reactions like that could not be denied.

"So, what time do you want me to come help you tomorrow?"

"Huh?" she asked, her eyes a bit hazy after their very brief close contact. Amusement filled him as he watched her snap herself out of her daze. "Oh, moving, right," she said, sounding more like she was talking to herself than him. "How about 8:00? You can pick me up at Sadie's. I'm staying there tonight since that's where all the furniture I'm using is."

"Okay, sounds good. 8:00 it is," he said, beginning to walk towards the door. As he began to pass her, he decided to push his luck. He leaned towards her quickly, pressing his lips on to her cheek for the briefest moment before whispering, "See you tomorrow." He heard her sharp intake of breath, and didn't hear her release it until he was almost out the door.

* * *

The doorbell rang at 8:00 am sharp, and she couldn't do anything but stand still, staring at the door. She knew she had to open it. She knew, in fact, that he could probably see her through the frosted glass of Sadie and Kwest's front door, standing only a few feet from the door, frozen in midstride.

Why had she asked him to help? What was she thinking? She must be crazy. But then again, maybe helping her move in somewhere else was the best way to make him understand that things were truly over between them.

The repeated ringing of the doorbell jolted her back to reality, and she took the last few steps to the door. Taking a deep breath, she opened it and couldn't help the smile that snuck onto her face at the vision in front of her. Tommy was balancing two extremely large cups of coffee and a large white paper bag. Besides that, there was also humor in the fact that he looked like he was barely awake, and yet was still finding the energy to smile at her.

"Come in," she said politely, getting out of his path and allowing him to pass her on the way to the kitchen.

He put the bag on the counter, along with the coffees, before he turned to look at her.

"Is there a reason that you, the only person I know who loathes mornings more than I do, decided to move at 8:00 in the morning?" He really did look tired, and she had to admit she felt bad for making him get up so early on a Saturday morning. She'd decided on such an early time, hoping he'd decide not to help so that he could sleep in. Or at the very least, hoping that the earlier they started, the sooner they'd be done. She didn't want to sit around all day thinking about what it was going to be like spending time with him again.

She grabbed her coffee and took a sip. Just the way she liked it. Apparently he didn't forget much. "Didn't I tell you Quincy, I'm all about mornings now."

"Oh really?" He smirked widely, and she knew he wasn't even a bit fooled.

She chuckled. "Okay, no. But I thought it would best to get an early start."

"How is it you're looking so awake?" he asked, eying her quizzically.

She laughed lightly before saying, "Truth?"

"Of course." His eyes were like a vortex, and she could feel herself being pulled towards him. She lowered her eyes to the coffee in front of her, purposely trying to avoid being sucked in to those limitless depths again.

"I've already had three cups of coffee this morning." He immediately started chuckling, the sound of his laughter low and quiet. She'd always loved the way he laughed. It was never loud or boisterous, but always low and raspy… and downright sexy.

"Anyway," she said, needing to change the subject and stop thinking about the sexiness of, well… everything he did. "Is that what I think it is?" she asked, pointing towards the white bag.

"If you're thinking that they're strawberry jelly filled donuts from The Sunset Diner, then, yes." She lifted the bag from the counter, opening it like there was a priceless artifact inside instead of sugar coated pastries. Every Saturday, she and Tommy used to have these donuts. They literally were to-die-for and she could almost taste that sugar filled, strawberry goodness as she pulled one out of the bag.

Unashamedly, she took a huge bite out of the delicious pastry, and closed her eyes as each morsel invaded her tastebuds. When next she opened her eyes, she noticed that Tommy was enjoying his own donut and watching her with clear amusement.

She began to look away when he began to speak.

"Oh, hold on," he said, lifting his hand to her face suddenly. "You've got some powder on your cheek." He caressed her cheek with his thumb, lingering longer than she knew was necessary. But, for some reason beyond her comprehension, she didn't stop him. He was standing so close; she could almost feel the heat radiating from his body. His hand was warm on her face, enticingly so.

He began to lean towards her, and this time she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was going to kiss her. She closed her eyes, subconsciously anticipating the embrace.

"Well, good morning." Sadie's sleepy voice reverberated through the kitchen.

Shock pulsed through her as her eyes flew open and she forced herself to take a step back from Tommy. She could see disappointment in his eyes, and she felt the same feeling running through her. That was not good. Not good at all. She'd vowed not to let him get to her. And then, within ten minutes, she'd already almost let him kiss her. She was seriously going to have to work on her self control.

"Morning, Sadie," Tommy said politely. "We were just having some breakfast before we headed out."

Jude looked at her watch. "Actually, we should get going. No point dawdling when we've got moving to do."

"Well, the furniture from Mom and Dad's house is in the basement. It's all been taken apart so you shouldn't have too much problem moving it," Sadie offered. "Do you need Kwest to help? I'm sure he wouldn't mind if I woke him up."

"No, that's okay. I think we've got it covered. Thanks for everything, Sades." She could tell her sister was still hurting from her decision to move out, so she was going to try and take every opportunity to be nice to her. It wasn't Sadie's fault that her stomach lurched every time she looked at her swollen belly. Her sister nodded in acknowledgement and began munching on one of the donuts.

She turned back towards Tommy. "You ready to go, Quincy?"

"I'm ready when you are," he said, smiling at her so sweetly that she could feel herself melting.

There was no doubt in her mind that it was going to be a long day.

* * *

"A little to the left," she commented, watching that they didn't bang the chair on the doorway as they carried it through. It had been a long, tiring day, and this was the last piece of furniture that they needed to bring up. When they had successfully positioned it next to Speid's couch, they lightly placed it on the ground.

She glanced at Tommy, who was still busy making sure the chair was aligned with the couch properly. He was sweaty and had long ago taken off his leather jacket. His black short sleeved shirt showed off his glistening muscles to perfection, and she felt her heart race a bit faster every time she noticed them. Which, if she was honest, was a lot.

Today, despite her initial fears, had actually been really fun. He'd been in a gloriously good mood, joking and smiling and his happiness was infectious. And regardless of her vow to stay distant from him, she found herself forsaking that once again in order to enjoy her time with him.

As her eyes were still roving over his body, he suddenly looked up and their eyes locked. He smirked at her stare and she blushed wildly at having been caught checking him out. When would she stop wanting him? Unable to help it, she snuck another look, purposely ignoring the proud gleam in his eyes.

She collapsed on the couch, exhausted, and Tommy followed suit, settling himself on the chair.

"Do you want to order some dinner in?" She offered the invitation before she allowed her brain the chance to tell her what a bad idea that was.

"Sure," he said, smiling unabashedly. "Thai?"

She nodded and he pulled out his cell phone, not even consulting her about what she wanted as he dialed the restaurant's number. She listened intently as he ordered all their old favorites. She was beginning to become less surprised at all the small things he still remembered.

They worked to set up everything as they waited for the food to arrive. She was surprised by how efficiently they worked together. They were almost done placing everything when the food was delivered.

They sat in the living room as they ate, the various boxes of Thai food spread all over the coffee table.

"So, what does it feel like to be back in front of the mic?" she asked. She'd been wondering for a while how he felt about the change, and tonight curiosity had gotten the better of her.

His smile gave her all the answer she needed. "It's been great. Amazing. I never really realized how much I missed it. Although…."

"What?"

"I'm having some problems with this one song, and I was kinda hoping that… you might help me out with it."

No. No. NO. Going back into the studio with him, in any capacity would be a mistake. She knew that very well. It was where their initial connection had been formed, and it was the one thing that always linked them.

It would be a stupid for her to put herself back in that situation, especially when she already found herself being so weak when it came to him.

She looked into his face, ready to refuse. But his eyes bore into hers, so genuine and warm. How could she possibly resist him?

"Sure. I'll do what I can," she answered finally.

His eyes sparkled with her response. "Great. Thank you."

They ate in silence for a few more minutes before he leaned over, trying to peek in the box she was eating from. "Do you have any Pad Thai left?"

"I do, but I'm afraid I've claimed the last of it," she joked.

"Wanna bet?" She noticed his eyes flashed with mischievousness, and he stood up slowly. He then began to move towards her.

She slid to the far end of the couch, evading his grasp as he reached for the container. "Don't even think about it, Quincy," she said, purposely taking a big bite. "Mmmmm. That's _so_ good."

He pounced before she realized what was going on, and within a matter of seconds, the food he was after was completely forgotten. All she could think about was Tommy, hovering over her as she lay on the couch. Their eyes met and locked, his gaze penetrating into hers. The feel of the heat of his breath on her face rendered her paralyzed. She couldn't move. All she could do was stare into his eyes and listen to the very loud beating of her own heart.

She noticed desire flash in his eyes as he lowered his face slowly. She didn't fight him as his lips touched hers. Lightly, softly. She closed her eyes, savoring the feel of his body on hers, of his lips caressing hers. She couldn't help herself as she kissed him back, her lips moving slowly, meeting the pace of his. His lips began to move more feverishly against hers and she could feel his tongue trace a path along her bottom lip.

No.

No.

She couldn't do this.

She turned her face away, somehow extricating herself from underneath him. She should never have let that happen. Even if it felt more right than anything had in a long time.

"Are you okay?" he asked, breathless.

She ran her hands through her hair, unable to look back at him.

No, she wasn't okay. She lifted her hand, noticing that it was shaking violently. "I'm fine. I… uh… I'm going to finish setting up the television in my bedroom." She heard her own voice, and she was mad at how out of breath, how affected she sounded. Without another word, she scurried towards her room and away from temptation.

* * *

_Shit_.

Had he blown it?

She'd been so responsive to him, and looked and felt so amazing lying underneath him, he hadn't been able to resist. But the way she'd run off, he wondered if it was too much too soon.

The kiss had been unexpected and amazing. His lips were still tingling and his heart was racing out of his chest. But now she was scared, or panicked at the very least.

Unsure what to do next, he stood up and slowly made his way towards her bedroom. He stood in the doorway, watching for a minute as she sat on the floor, struggling with the television cables. He couldn't help but smirk. She never had been one for technology.

"Want some help?" he asked, quietly, not entering the room unless she wanted him to.

She looked up at him, her eyes shining with emotion and an uncertain expression on her face. Without saying anything, she nodded and stood up, backing away from the wires.

It only took him five minutes to set up the television, but before he stood up and faced her, he decided he should say _something_. "Jude, I'm sorry. If I scared you, I certainly didn't mean to. I'll apologize for scaring you and for catching you off guard. But I won't apologize for the kiss. I can't."

Silence permeated the room and he waited for a moment, for some response, but all he continued to hear was the deafening quiet. Finally, he got up slowly and turned around, only to see Jude lying on the bed, fast asleep.

He chuckled lightly as he stood above her, watching her sleeping peacefully. She looked so serene, so at peace. He hadn't seen her like that in a while, and the sight was so refreshing. He walked quietly around to the other side of the bed, and sat down, his back leaning against the headboard.

He knew he should leave, but he couldn't. Not quite yet. There was something so soothing and therapeutic in watching her sleep.

She turned over and curled onto his chest, and he tightened his arm around her shoulders. He reached his other hand over and brushed her hair off her face lightly. She moved slightly, and he was worried she was going to wake up. But, instead, she curled even tighter into his arms. For a moment he could pretend that this was reality.

In a few minutes, he'd leave. But for now, he needed to let himself pretend.


	18. Chapter Seventeen

Ready for the update? Well, I hope so, since it's finally that time!

Thank you all for your patience! I know the updates have been taking longer than usual as of late, and I really appreciate you all sticking with this fic (and my other fic too). Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing.

A special thanks to InstantStarFan and Gwynwhyver for looking this over for me. I really appreciate it!

Well, without further ado, here's the latest installment. Please, whether you love it or hate it, let me know what you think! Thanks! :)

**A/N**: The song used in this chapter is Daughtry's "It's Not Over," which I do not own. (Wouldn't that be cool, though? lol)

* * *

Chapter Seventeen:

She awoke slowly, the heat of the morning sun warming her body as it shone through her bedroom window. As her eyes became accustomed to the light, she was surprised by how refreshed she felt. She hadn't slept that well in… well, it had been a long time.

She turned her head, immediately discovering the reason for her peaceful slumber. Her eyes were confronted with the sight of Tommy's chest, and as her vision wandered upwards, she took in his still closed eyes.

To say she was surprised to see him there was a major understatement. She definitely didn't remember how she ended up sleeping in his arms. But now, at least, she had the explanation for her wonderful night's sleep.

Panic immediately washed over her. This wasn't right. She should definitely not be lying in his arms, no matter how she'd gotten there in the first place.

As she went to move, she caught another glance at his face, at the familiar peaceful look she saw there. He always looked so sweet, so angelic when he slept. And as much as she hated to admit it, she'd always slept better when he was lying next to her, holding her. When they'd been dating, she'd often slept over at his apartment just to be close to him, to feel safe. And he'd never once pressured her for more until she had been ready. Even once they were married, she hadn't liked being away from him for even one night. The odd night he had to work late with another artist, she'd never been able to settle herself to sleep until he got home.

She remembered one particular time when he'd been at the studio until 4:30 am. Regardless of how hard she'd tried, she couldn't get to sleep. Finally, somewhere around 1:30 she'd given up, grabbing her acoustic guitar and trailing down to the living room. She'd actually gotten quite a few lyrics written before she'd heard Tommy pull the Viper into the driveway. When he'd finally made his way in the door, she had met him at the entranceway to the living room.

"Hey," he'd murmured, his voice raspy, the exhaustion clear on his face. "What are you still doing up?" She still remembered the way he'd linked his fingers with hers and pulled her towards him.

"Couldn't sleep," she'd said with downcast eyes, suddenly feeling foolish for being so dependent on him for something as simple and basic as sleeping.

His eyes had widened in surprise. "Babe, it's 4:30. Have you slept at all?"

She'd shaken her head, and she remembered feeling ridiculous as the tears had welled up in her eyes. "I just couldn't. Not without you there." She still wasn't sure why the emotions had caught her so strongly in that moment. "I feel so silly. Really. I mean it's ridiculous. I should be able to sleep on my own," she'd said, pulling her arms out of his grasp and walking back into the living room.

His strong hands had rubbed her shoulders reassuringly. "It's okay to need someone else, Jude." He'd spun her slowly around to face him, and held her face gently in his hands. "I need you too. More than you could ever know." She'd seen the truth of his words in his eyes. Their relationship, their connection, it had been so strong, their lives and destinies so intertwined.

He'd kissed her then, so powerfully yet so softly. And if her memory served her correctly, they never did make it up to their bedroom that early morning.

As she lay watching his steady intake of breath, she wasn't sure why she was allowing herself to muse over the past like this. Or why that particular memory filled her mind. It was trouble, that's what she did know. Needing him wasn't an option anymore. She also couldn't understand why she was allowing herself to remain lying in his arms. She needed to get up and away from him. What she was doing was dangerous.

She shifted slightly, and she felt his arm wrap even more tightly around her shoulders. It was then that she realized just how close she was to him, snuggled against his body.

How had this even happened? She remembered kissing him last night. That glorious, soul-searing kiss. It had taken her breath away and frightened her all at once. Much like the moment she was experiencing now.

Her entire body was tingling, and her senses were on overload with the scent and the feel of him so near.

But no matter how much she told herself that it wasn't a good idea, she couldn't physically force herself to move any more.

Her eyes lingered on his face. On his relaxed, serene expression. On the way, sometimes even in sleep, his mouth curled up into a mischievous smirk. She had the sudden urge to reach her hand up and touch his face, and run her hands through his hair. But she knew that would disturb him, and for some reason, she couldn't bear the thought of that.

_God help me_, she thought. _I'm too weak for my own good_.

And with that, she closed her eyes. Like Cinderella at the ball, she savored the feeling of having everything she'd ever wanted. Even if she knew, very well, that it couldn't last.

* * *

As his eyes fluttered open, he looked around the room, immediately puzzled by his surroundings; he didn't recognize the ceiling or the bare walls that outfitted the room. But as he felt her stir beside him, and the warmth of her body lying tightly tucked against him radiated through him, the memories of last night flashed in his mind. The memory of the 

kiss was the most prominent, and he closed his eyes again, savoring the recollection of it. He could almost feel his lips on hers again. It had been so long since they had kissed, and it only made him long for more.

In the silence that pervaded the room, he heard her unnatural breathing pattern, realizing immediately that she was awake but pretending not to be. His gaze flickered down to her face, noticing also how she was blinking a lot for someone who was supposed to be sleeping. He almost laughed out loud, remembering that she'd always been really bad at feigning sleeping. She'd tried many times to fool him into thinking she was still sleeping and it had never worked; apparently she hadn't gotten any better at it.

As much as he was enjoying the feel of her soft body in his arms, he was anxious to talk to her. There were a million questions running through his mind. If she was awake, why hadn't she moved? He was trying to be realistic, but that had to mean _something_.

"Good morning," he whispered, his quiet voice breaking the comfortable silence of the room. He felt her body stiffen and he watched sadly as she hurried into a sitting position.

"Good morning," she mumbled, clearly keeping her gaze averted from him. He felt his heart sink as he realized how uncomfortable she looked. This morning, waking up next to her, it was a dream come true for him. But apparently not for her.

She stood up suddenly and as she began to walk towards the bathroom, he noticed something that changed his mood immediately. He couldn't help the laughter that escaped his lips.

She stopped in mid-stride, turning on her heel at the sound of his laughter. "What is so funny?"

"Well, it's good to see some things don't change," he teased. He felt more laughter bubbling up in him.

"What do you mean?" she asked, eying him suspiciously.

Overcome with laughter again, he simply pointed at her, leaving her to look in the mirror to discover the source of his fitful laughs.

When she glanced in the mirror, he noticed her beginning to shake with laughter as well. She had the worst case of 'bedhead' he'd ever seen. And he'd seen a lot waking up next to her every morning for over two years. No matter how peacefully she slept, her hair always ended up a matted mess in the morning. This morning was definitely no exception. In fact, this morning was worse than any morning he could remember.

He watched as she adjusted her hair in the mirror for a minute before sighing in frustration. She looked towards him, a smile burgeoning on her lips. The moment their eyes met, they burst out in simultaneous laughter. Her 'bedhead' had always been a source of amusement between them in the 'good' days and it was comforting for him that, even now, they could share a laugh about it.

His happiness was amplified by her unguarded laughter. He relished the moments when he saw her happy. It had been so long since he'd seen her like that, or shared time with her when she wasn't a million miles away. He watched her, doubled over in laughter, and he wished he could freeze the moment and replay it when the hard times returned. Which they inevitably would.

Weak with laughter, she perched herself on the end of the bed, slowly catching her breath and wiping away the tears of laughter. He'd stopped laughing a moment ago, caught up in watching her enjoy the moment. He was transfixed by her beauty, which was only enhanced by the smiling she was exhibiting.

The most amazing part about the moment they'd just shared was that the tension that had materialized after she'd stopped pretending to sleep, had seemed to dissipate. The laughter had somehow broken the invisible barrier between them, at least for this morning.

She felt his eyes upon her, and for reasons beyond her comprehension, it didn't bother her. Actually, it was comforting, familiar… right. This morning, within two minutes of him waking up, she'd vacillated from discomfort to a feeling of warmth and lightness. She didn't think it could hurt to hold on to that for one morning.

"Do you want to get some breakfast?" she asked, ignoring the part of her brain that was telling her she was getting too attached to spending time with him again.

His eyes brightened immediately with her invitation. "I'd love to." She watched as another familiar look overcame his face. One that told her an idea was brewing in his mind that very minute. "Actually, if you want, I was hoping maybe you could help me with that song today. I know it's not either of our normal day in the studio, but if you don't have anything else going on today…"

She pondered his offer for a moment. It was actually perfect. Last night she had promised to help him with the song he was struggling with. And this way Speid wouldn't even know she was working with him, and she could avoid a possible confrontation between the two of them. Besides, she really didn't have anything else to do. Still ignoring the part of her brain that was telling her it was a bad idea to spend another entire day with him, she nodded in agreement. "Okay, that sounds good."

She could see the unconcealed excitement in his eyes and was immediately glad that she'd agreed to help him. To be honest, and despite herself, she was actually really looking forward to working on music with him. Especially his music. She had always wondered what it would be like to have their positions reversed, and to see him behind the mic.

He stood up, straightening his clothes. "Okay, I'll pick up breakfast and meet you at the studio in an hour?"

She nodded, following him as he headed towards the front door.

He pulled it open, beginning to step through, when she stopped him with a restraining hand on his arm. He turned quickly, standing closer than she expected. Her pulse jumped at the close proximity of his body to hers. She swallowed, trying to remember what she wanted to say. "Ummm… thanks for helping last night," she finally spit out.

"You're welcome," he said, his voice low. He smiled at her again, and she held her breath as his gaze lingered longer than necessary on her face. Finally, he walked out of the apartment, and she closed the door behind him.

She leaned her back against it, listening to the rapid beating of her own heart. This wasn't good. No matter what she did or told herself, she couldn't stop her body's natural reaction to him. It only made things harder; it made it more difficult to remember that they could never go back to that place where they were as intimate as two people could ever be. The more she was around him, however, the harder it was to remember that part of their life was over.

She couldn't help but wonder what the hell she was getting herself into.

* * *

She drove into the parking lot, pulling into the spot next to the Viper. She jumped out of the Mustang and slammed the door shut, but remained unmoved. Her gaze moved along the shiny blue exterior of his car, remembering all the times she'd sat in the passenger seat, feeling the breeze blow through her hair. Riding in that car, she felt free. Probably more free than she felt anywhere else. Even that night, only last week, when Tommy had picked her up in the Viper, she'd felt those old familiar feelings of freedom coursing through her veins. Although, she now wondered whether it was the car or the company that brought out those feelings in her.

"You know, I think that car's going to start blushing if you don't stop ogling it like that." She spun around, caught off guard by his voice. He was smiling at her, standing just outside the back door of G-Major.

"Something tells me it's used to the attention," she joked, glancing back at the sports car once more before turning around and walking towards him.

"You know, if we finish early, we could take a ride later," he offered. "I'll even let you drive."

Her eyebrows rose at his offer. That would be the second time he'd let her drive the Viper in the month she'd been back. He was normally so protective of his Viper, that his offer 

was more than a bit surprising. "We'll see how things go," she said tentatively. She guessed his offer had more to do with extending their time together than anything. She wasn't sure she was ready for that. She'd promised not to avoid him for two months, but wasn't she pushing herself to the limit spending two entire days with him in a row? Isn't that what married couples did? And, soon enough, they wouldn't be married anymore.

"You okay?" he asked, shooting her a curious look as his voice broke her out of her thoughts.

"I'm fine. Let's get to work," she said, beginning to lead the way to the studio. _Be professional. Today is all about the music, not about us._ As she walked through the doors of studio A, she mused that that might be a little difficult, considering their history. Since they'd begun dating, and then married, their private and professional lives had become irrevocably intermingled. So, how could they now take a step back from that and be only professional? She wasn't honestly sure it was possible.

She took her familiar seat behind the soundboard, unable to actually remember the last time she'd sat there, in the studio with him. He sat down next to her, adjusting the knobs on the board to get started.

"So, where do you want to start?"

"Well, why don't we listen to what I've got so far and you can help where you think it's not working? Something's not right about it, but I can't pinpoint it. I'm hoping you can."

"What's the song about?"

She noticed Tommy smirking just before he turned his head away to look at some controls. "Well… it's about a couple. Let's just say, they're having some issues. But he's not ready to give up." He spun his head back around to face her. "He won't give up."

She nodded, unable to form an actual response. She was hit by a wave of uncertainty; maybe helping him was a really bad idea. Clearly the song was about them, a message from him to her.

But, taking a deep breath, she realized she couldn't back out now; she'd told him she'd help him and she would follow through on her promise. And even if it was a ploy to get her to listen to his pleas that they could fix their relationship, she had to get used to it. She'd known when she agreed to give him two months that it was going to be hard. She had to be strong. She had to be objective, and listen to the song like an outside observer. It would be much easier that way.

Steeling her defenses against him, she settled back in her seat to listen. Despite knowing what the song was about, she had to admit she felt really… excited. Despite herself, and her assertions that she needed to stay away from him, she couldn't wait to hear his music, to collaborate with him again musically. She loved working with Speid and producing 

SME, but there had always been something magical about working with Tommy. The professional side of her, the singer, musician and songwriter, had been burning in anticipation of working with him again. It was the woman in her that wasn't sure she could deal with it.

"Ready?" he asked, his finger hovering over the play button.

She nodded, closing her eyes as the song began. The melding of the guitar and his voice was intoxicating. She'd heard him sing before, but this… this was beyond amazing.

_I was blown away.  
What could I say?  
It all seemed to make sense.  
You've taken away everything,  
And I can't deal with that.  
I try to see the good in life,  
But good things in life are hard to find.  
We'll blow it away, blow it away.  
Can we make this something good?  
Well, I'll try to do it right this time around._

_Be strong, Jude,_ she told herself; she felt her body actually quivering as she listened to the words he sang.

If only it was that easy, to just start again, try again. She wished it was, she really did.

The song was catchy, the lyrics beyond powerful. As the objective observer she was trying to be, she knew that this song had the potential to be wildly successful. As the woman she was trying to keep out of the equation, her heart was breaking with every word. He was so determined, so sure that things could work. His determination made her ache, made her long to feel the certainty that he did. But she couldn't, not when she knew the truth of what had happened.

The chorus blasted through the speakers, pulling her back in.

_Let's start over.  
I'll try to do it right this time around.  
It's not over.  
'Cause a part of me is dead and in the ground.  
This love is killing me,  
But you're the only one.  
It's not over._

As the music cut out, the last line of the chorus haunted her. It _was_ over. It had to be. For her sake, for her to move on, her relationship with him had to be over. She tried to drown out the logical part of her that was telling her if she really believed that she wouldn't be there with him right now.

When her eyes met his, he was staring at her expectantly. "It's great. The guitar and drums are loud, but not overpowering. The lyrics and vocals are amazing. The only thing I might change is the tempo; it could be a bit fast. But, honestly Tommy, I'm not even sure what you needed me for."

"Well, you just caught the tempo problem in one listen, which I tried fixing for two hours yesterday. And, as I'm sure you've noticed, it's not finished. It's the rest that's plaguing me."

She felt, in this very moment, like she had a choice to make. She'd heard the song; she knew the kind of emotions she'd be dealing with if she stayed to help him write the rest of it. She could walk away. Make some excuse and leave him to finish it by himself. Or she could help him; try to deal with or disregard whatever feelings were blooming again in her heart. She would be putting herself out there, exposing that vulnerable part of herself that she'd kept hidden for two years. Music was where he basis of their connection had always been. And when she wrote with him, she could never hide anything. He always knew what she was thinking before she even thought it. It would be a leap, one she'd probably never be able to come back from. The distance she'd been placing between them would be gone. If she stayed, she'd have to find another way to cope, to deal with him until their divorce was settled.

She looked at him, felt his eyes probing hers. And she knew instantly that the decision had been made for her.

"Well, what are we waiting for, then?" she asked, both praising and chastising herself for staying.

* * *

"No, no… it should definitely be bring 'us' down, not bring 'me' down," she said, furiously scribbling the correction on the paper. They were working on the second verse of the song. They'd actually finished the rest, but neither of them had been content with the second verse so they'd gone back to rework it until they were happy with it.

He glanced in her direction, mesmerized and amazed that she was still here. He could have sworn she'd been on the verge of leaving when they'd first begun, but here she was, so lost in the process that she didn't even notice him watching her.

"What do you think?" she asked, without looking up from the paper. He smiled as she carelessly pushed her hair out of her face. She was so focused, so driven, so… breathtaking. Just like he always remembered. Working with her for the past couple of hours, it had been like old times. Honestly, it felt like, musically, they'd never been apart. At one point he'd gotten so lost in the moment that he'd almost pulled her into his lap 

like he used to do when they were co-writing. It was so hard to remember, at times, that they were no longer in that place personally. They still did all the same things when they worked, had all the same songwriting habits. She still wrote things down before he even had a chance to verbalize them. And they didn't always need to speak at all. Sometimes what he or she wanted was simply understood. He'd felt her open herself more to him in the last couple of hours than she had in all the weeks she'd been back.

"It's perfect," he said, taking in her eyes, which were shining with happiness for a change. He noted that she looked better, healthier, than she had when she had first returned. It was such a relief to see color back in her cheeks, and a smile on her face now and then.

Her eyes skimmed the lyrics, and he saw her nod approvingly. "I think it's done," she said, smiling up at him. "Do you want to sing it, and we'll see what we've got?"

"Let's do it," he said, taking the paper with the new lyrics on it. He placed the paper on the music stand, grabbed his electric guitar and stood behind the mic, waiting for her cue.

She signaled to him, and he began strumming and singing, focusing on her, on the words. Hoping that somehow they could make even a bit of an impact on her.

_Taken all I could take,  
And I cannot wait.  
We're wasting too much time  
Being strong, holding on.  
Can't let it bring us down._

They _were_ wasting time. He could see that. All he wanted to do was try to fix things, but she was so resistant. He reminded himself to be patient; he could see her letting him in, little by little, and he didn't want to ruin the progress he had made. He was just so desperate for things to be the way they had been once. But a lot had happened, and he knew he couldn't rush her. He'd lose her for sure if he did that.

_My life with you means everything,  
So I won't give up that easily._

He noticed her shudder at those lyrics, and it made him wonder why she was fighting so hard to divorce him, to move on. He could tell she still felt the connection between them. It was something so potent that it couldn't be ignored. He mused that there must be something else, something he didn't know, that was keeping her from taking a chance on him again. But what?

_I'll blow it away, blow it away.  
Can we make this something good?  
'Cause it's all misunderstood.  
Well, I'll try to do it right this time around._

As the music stopped, she looked away from him. But he'd caught the look in her eyes before her gaze had moved; she definitely still wanted him, still wanted _them_ and their marriage. Call him cocky, and most people certainly did, but he knew her. He always had. And that look in her eyes told him that she longed for all the things that he did. So, why did she doubt that they could make it work again?

He walked back through to the other side of the glass and collapsed in the chair next to her. "So, what did you think?"

"I think it's great. I think you've got a hit on your hands," she said quietly, her eyes never meeting his.

"I mean about the lyrics, about what the song means? Don't pretend you don't know." _So much for not pushing her, Quincy._ He knew it might be a bad idea, but the weakness in her eyes had made it impossible to resist giving it a try.

Her eyes flashed in his direction for a moment before she looked away. "It's just a song."

"It's not just a song, it's never just a song. Not where you or I are concerned." As he spoke, he felt the tension re-emerging between them. He could almost feel her ready to flee. As predicted, she grabbed for her bag.

He needed to stop her, needed to recapture the easy-going atmosphere that they had managed to have between them all day. He'd made a mistake pushing her and he needed to fix it before she left.

He reached forward, gently restraining her arm. He felt her tense immediately under his touch. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to corner you," he said, quietly, his voice barely more than a whisper.

He felt her slowly begin to relax. "It's okay. I really should get going, though."

"Not so fast," he said. "I believe I promised someone they could drive the Viper."

Her eyes sparked for a moment. "No, that's okay."

"Is someone chicken?" he teased, knowing that she could never resist a challenge.

Her cheeks reddened and her lip curved in a half-smile. "I am **not**."

He grinned wildly. "I think you are. Besides, maybe it isn't such a good idea. After you drove the Viper a few weeks ago, I thought I was going to have to get the clutch replaced," he joked.

The taunt had clearly hit its mark. She reached forward, grabbing his keys, muttering a "Let's go," before storming out of the studio.

He couldn't help but laugh, and had to avoid being smacked three times as he followed her out to his car. He continued to laugh to himself, musing that it was good to know her temper was just where he'd left it.

* * *

She closed her eyes, relishing the feel of the wind blowing through her hair.

"Eyes on the road, Jude," he teased. Opening her eyes, she shot a glance in his direction, noticing the smirk playing on his lips.

She laughed. "You know, Quincy, I'm such a good driver, I don't even need to watch the road."

He chuckled. "Whatever you say." He smiled at her, his smile so bright it was contagious.

She smiled back, and despite her assertion, she turned her face back to watch the road ahead of her. Despite herself, despite everything, she'd had a really great day. Music had never been the problem between them, and today proved that even further. They still clicked in a way that she had never felt with anyone else. She had to admit, she'd missed that. All the time she'd been in L.A., she'd mostly worked on writing songs alone. Even when she had collaborated, it hadn't been anything like what she'd experienced today. It sounded silly to say it was magical, but that's the only word she could think of to describe it.

"Well, at least I don't have to worry about replacing that clutch," he joked. "You're doing a lot better than the first time you drove this car. Or the second to seventh times, too."

She turned her head, giving him the only response she could think of. She stuck her tongue out at him.

He laughed loudly before returning the gesture.

As they continued along the endless road, they settled into silence, a comfortable, almost comforting silence.

She sped the Viper along the road, feeling for once like she didn't have a care in the world. For this moment, at least, she wanted to believe that.

But as always, reality reared its ugly head. In the distance, she caught sight of something that made her breath catch in her throat. She hadn't realized that she'd even been on the road that would lead to this place. If she'd been paying attention, she never would have 

let them end up there. But once she saw it, from a mile off, she knew before she reached the large sprawling property that she would stop at it. She had to; she'd wanted to go there since she'd returned but she'd been too scared to go alone. Maybe it was fitting that her first visit back to this place would be with him.

She pulled the car to the side of the road, turning the engine off. She saw the large sign, indicating where they were. As if she could ever forget being at this place over two years ago.

**Riverview Cemetery**. The place where her daughter was buried. Where _their_ daughter was buried.

She sat still, not moving to get out of the car. She hadn't even looked at him yet, to see his reaction to where they were. She felt paralyzed. She knew she needed come here again after so long; but she wasn't sure if she could actually get out of the car or not.

"Do you ever… come here?" she asked quietly.

"All the time," he answered, just as quietly. When she looked up, his gaze had shifted towards the cemetery grounds.

Just as the silence settled between them again, he added, "I talk to her, sometimes."

Her head shot up in surprise. She waited a few second before speaking. "Me too," she admitted. She paused, taking a deep breath before continuing. "Sometimes I tell her silly stuff, about my day, about a song I'm working on… anything, so that I feel connected to her. And then sometimes," she whispered, feeling the tears welling up behind her eyelids, "I tell her I miss her. That I love her."

She didn't know why she was telling him any of this. Maybe because she couldn't hold it inside anymore. Or maybe because he was the only one in the world that could understand how she felt.

She felt the tears break through her defenses, beginning to stream down her cheeks. She turned her head towards the road, trying to hide them from him.

As the tears blurred her vision, she felt a warm hand covering the one that lay idle on the gear shift. He squeezed it lightly, and she felt the warmth spreading up her arm, filling her whole body. And, miraculously, and unexpectedly, she felt better.

Turning her head slowly, she stared down at their connected hands. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed him doing the same. There was power there, sparks that were almost palpable.

Her eyes roved up his arm, finally locking on his haunting blue orbs. His lips curved in a comforting smile, a smile that told her he knew exactly how she felt. And for the first time in a very long time, she didn't feel alone.

But as her eyes moved past him to the graveyard, she tensed up. She couldn't do it; she couldn't confront her daughter's grave again. Not yet, not today.

He leaned forward, wiping the tears off her face with his free hand.

She refocused her eyes on him, and said, "Do you mind… I mean, I don't think I can…"

"It's okay. You don't have to do it today," he said softly, squeezing her hand again.

She nodded, moving her hand out from under his to rub her eyes and clear her vision. Then she turned the key in the ignition, and took one look back at the cemetery before pulling the Viper back on the road.

* * *

An hour later, after driving in a comfortable silence for a long while, Jude pulled the Viper into the G-Major parking lot. She parked it in the spot next to the Mustang, and turned off the engine. She didn't immediately get out, but laid her head back on the headrest, staring up at the sky. It was one of the odd nights where, even in the populated city of Toronto, she could see a plethora of stars in the sky.

"Thanks for today… for being there," she said finally, still gazing at the night sky.

"You're welcome. Any time." She heard him pause, but knew instinctively that he had more to say. His voice considerably lower, he said, "Whenever you want to go back there, if you want some company, just let me know."

"Thank you," she said gratefully. "And thanks for letting me ride your precious Viper, today. I really needed it."

He smirked at her. "You know, I knew there was a reason I kept this car."

She smiled, opening the car door and swinging her legs out. "Well, have a good night." On impulse, one she knew she might chastise herself for later, she leaned over and kissed his cheek swiftly before getting out of the car.

She jogged around the Mustang and jumped in. He stepped out of the Viper and leaned against it as he watched her peel out of the parking lot, keeping his eyes on the Mustang until it was out of sight.

He took a deep breath, thinking about the day they'd shared. It had been more than he could have ever wished for. They'd had fun, they'd talked about their daughter. And, 

more than that, he felt like they'd begun to understand each other on a level they hadn't been able to reach in a very long time.


	19. Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Eighteen:

She jolted awake from her dream, the images frozen in her mind. Though they weren't scary or evil thoughts, she cursed herself for the wayward direction of her unconscious thoughts. Muffling her scream of frustration in her pillow, she silently tallied the number of nights that she'd dreamt about Tommy. Six nights. Every night since the last day they'd spent together.

Following that night, one week ago, when they had talked about their daughter and shared things they had not shared with each other even directly following Chloe's death, Jude knew she was in trouble.

She was falling for him all over again. She'd known in the deepest part of her heart that she would always love him; he was a significant part of her past after all. But she hadn't wanted to fall in love with him again. But that's exactly what was happening; it was undeniable. The way her palms began to sweat whenever he moved closer to her, even if he was just reaching around her for a cup of coffee in the kitchen area of G-Major. The way her heart raced even when their eyes met across the lobby.

She was doomed.

It was like a freefall, something she couldn't control. After that night, she hadn't been sure how she was going to act around him. She knew very well that she should be distancing herself from him – but she'd been trying that for weeks without success. She knew all she could do was pray that she would survive until the two months were up.

Luckily, the last week had been an answer to her prayers. Darius had begun to put the pressure on her, Tommy and SME regarding their appearances in the showcase. Darius was not fond of being embarrassed and he was going out of his way to ensure that all three acts were prepared. More than that, he wanted to make sure they all wow-ed the crowd. Since she was producing SME, this meant double the work for her. But it was good; it was keeping her busy enough that she didn't think about Tommy... too much. The pressure meant that she had no free time to be wooed by her soon-to-be ex-husband.

Not that he would've had the time to do any wooing. He was as busy as she was.The few times she did see him, he'd smiled and waved at her on his way to Studio A. Lately it seemed like he was living in that studio. He looked exhausted, his eyes noticeably bloodshot from exhaustion. He was there every morning when she arrived, already knee deep in recording, and he was still there, busy as ever, when she left at night. Darius, sensing the success Tommy's solo career would bring G-Major seemed to be pressuring him harder than anyone else.

The alarm clock began ringing loudly in her ear, and she immediately slammed her hand down to shut it off. Another day. Hopefully another day where she could avoid Tommy... and the feelings she was trying to suppress.

Tossing aside the covers, she strode quickly to the door, intending on indulging in a long, hot shower to try to relax herself. She swung the door open only to be confronted with Speid, who was leaning against the wall outside her room.

"You know," he began, "the press has called me a lot of things before. But 'Mistress,' that's a new one," he said, smirking wildly as if this was something to be proud of.

"What?" she asked, her brain still muddled from the absence of her morning coffee in her system.

"Okay, so that might not have been the exact wording. But I know how to read between the lines."

He held the morning paper loosely between his fingers, and she grabbed at it, wondering what he was talking about.

As she balanced the paper in her hand, she noticed that, right on the front cover, there was a large photo of Speid, smiling happily, gazing into... her own eyes. But there was more to it than that. As her eyes roved down the photograph, she noticed that his arms were twined around her waist comfortably, and they were standing close. Too close.

The headline, in large, bold print read **"Romance Rekindled: Has Jude Quincy Rediscovered Her Speiderman Connection?"**

She sighed loudly, turning her attention back to the picture.

For a minute she wondered whether it was a fake, but then the truth dawned on her and she realized when the photo had been taken. A couple of days ago, she'd been having a particularly rough time recording and she'd gone outside to get a breath of fresh air. Speid, worried about her, had followed and comforted her, at one point hugging her. It had been innocent. She'd not only been upset by the difficulty she was having with the song, but also the content. Of course, the song was about Tommy. Speid had only been trying to cheer her up, and the press had gone and turned their friendship into a secret, or not-so-secret, love affair.

She skimmed the article, wincing as she read the second paragraph.

_A Toronto Sun correspondent spied the two lovebirds entering the same apartment building together, where they are, according to an inside source, "shacking up together." Since Jude's sudden return to Toronto only a month ago, she has been spotted staying with her sister and now with her ex-boyfriend (and possibly current flame) Vincent Speiderman. Sources say she hasn't been spotted near the home of her husband, Tommy Quincy. A source inside G-Major, where both Jude and Tommy Quincy work, say that the marriage is all but over._

Lifting her eyes from the article, she met Speiderman's amused eyes. "This is not funny."

"Actually it is. They've got the whole thing totally wrong. Who cares what they say? I say we frame it and commemorate it as one of the many times the press has gotten things completely wrong." He took the paper back from her, his eyes perusing her face intensely.

He pointed at her, his expression indicating that he was having a thought, a realization of sorts. "Unless," he began, "you're worried about what someone might think about this article. A certain 90's ex-boy bander with a squinty frown."

"Do you want Karma to see this? To believe that it's true?" she asked, intentionally diverting the subject from Tommy.

His eyes shot up. "What do I care whether she sees it or not?"

"Because you still have feelings for her," she stated, obviously. "Or did I not see you sharing a major bonding moment in the kitchen of G-Major yesterday?"

He bowed his head, embarrassed. "We talked. It's no big deal. Besides," he said, catching on to her tactics, "we weren't talking about me. I thought you were intent on divorcing Tommy."

"I am," she asserted, although the power behind the affirmation became weaker every time she said it. "That doesn't mean I want to hurt him needlessly."

"Did you ever think that maybe you're worried that if he thinks you've moved on, it will give him permission to do the same? Could you really deal with that?" he asked.

She sighed, thinking honestly about that question. She knew, by requesting the divorce that Tommy would eventually find someone else. She couldn't control how her heart sunk at the thought of him with another woman. Or how her throat tightened with sadness and loss. She met Speid's questioning look. "Honestly, I'm not sure. But that's part of moving on. I'll have to deal with it."

She played nervously with the hem of her t-shirt. The thought Speid suggested had unnerved her far more than she wanted to admit.

Speid stopped her movement gently with his hand. "Look, I don't want to upset you. And I'm the last person that wants to see you to run back to Tommy. But I do want you to be honest with yourself. You have to think hard about what you're doing before it's too late." He smiled sympathetically before ambling off towards his room.

As she watched him walking away, she wondered grudgingly when Vincent Speiderman had become so damned smart.

* * *

Fighting the urge to punch the paparazzi who tried to block the entranceway to G-Major, Jude hurriedly pushed through the glass doors and rushed into the lobby. They certainly weren't 

leaving these new romance rumours alone, shouting ludicrous questions about her and Speiderman. She didn't care, really. She knew the truth, that Speid was just a good friend. But, for a reason she couldn't pin down, she didn't want Tommy to see the headlines or hear all these rumors without an explanation from her first.

She rushed through the lobby, heading immediately for Studio A. She was torn; she was, on one hand, chastising herself for letting herself care how he was affected by these rumors. Rushing to his side and explaining herself would no doubt send the wrong message, and she didn't want to confuse him any further as far as her feelings or intentions. Hell, she was confused enough for the both of them.

But on the other hand, as the man who was still her husband, even if it was in name alone, and who she still cared for, she thought he deserved to hear the truth from her.

As she came to a halt outside Studio A, her eyes took in the empty room. He wasn't there, and she didn't see any of his stuff either.

Her brow furrowed in puzzlement and she turned around, glancing around the lobby for any sight of him.

Noticing her sister at the reception desk, she walked towards the one person who knew most of what went on around G-Major.

Taking a deep breath, steeling herself against the anxiety and sadness she still felt around her pregnant sister, she approached the desk.

"Hey Sades," she said quietly.

Sadie looked up, her eyes brightening immediately. "Hey Jude. How are things going?"

"Good. I mean, you know Darius. Always wanting a hit song, like yesterday."

Her sister smiled at her, and she felt warmth filling her at the gesture. She returned the smile genuinely, grateful that it was finally getting a little bit easier to be around her sister.

The moment was broken by the ringing phones, and Sadie glanced towards the phone, answering it with practiced efficiency.

An old Boyz Attack gold album hanging behind the reception desk reminded Jude of her mission. When her sister was finally off the phone, she took the opportunity to ask, "I was wondering, have you seen Tommy around today? I wanted to talk to him but I peeked in Studio A and I didn't see him in there."

"He didn't come in today. He called in sick earlier." Sadie eyed her with curiosity, but refrained from asking the questions she was clearly dying to ask. "Let me guess, you're worried it has something to do with this," Sadie inferred, producing the offending picture and article.

Jude smirked, knowing that would be all the admission her sister would need. "You know, sometimes I forget how well you know me." She sighed, wondering what she should do. "Well, thanks Sades," she said, trailing back towards Studio B.

She'd been taking turns with SME in the studio; one day she'd work with them and the next she'd work on her own material. Today was her day to record, so SME weren't need at all in the studio.

She had all day to herself, to work on finalizing the two tracks she'd be performing at the showcase. Due to some scheduling conflict, the showcase had been pushed back by two weeks, which actually gave her much more time than necessary. And Darius had gone away for the week on one of his spa retreats.

So no one would notice if she disappeared for a few hours, she mused, already grabbing her bag and keys as she took off for the back exit.

* * *

She sat in front of the familiar house for fifteen minutes, trying to decide what to do. On the ride over from G-Major, she'd gotten more and more suspicious. Tommy hardly ever got sick. It was disgusting how healthy he'd stay even during the worst of flu seasons. And when she'd seen him yesterday, although she hadn't spoken to him, he'd seemed fine, totally and completely healthy.

But, on the rare occasion when Tommy did get sick, it was brutal. She'd never seen anyone suffer as badly as he did, even with a cold or the flu. The illness never lasted for long, and it tended to descend on him suddenly, but he seemed to get all the symptoms at once, a barrage of sniffling, fever, chills, coughing and, if he was really unlucky, vomiting all at once. The fact that he might be sick made her more than a bit worried.

Either way, whether he really was or wasn't sick, she needed to talk to him.

It was this assertion that pushed her out of the car, towards the front door. Lifting her shaking hand, she began to knock.

She stood for what seemed like endless minutes, waiting for him to answer. He never did.

She deliberated on her options. She could leave. He either wasn't home or he didn't want to talk to her. But that just didn't seem like him, especially lately. Or she could see if the spare key was still taped behind the mailbox where it always used to be, and use it to go in. But what if he was fine and didn't appreciate her uninvited entrance? But the question nagging her was the one that made up her mind. What if he _wasn't_ fine? This was the question that led her to search for the key behind the mailbox.

Her hand slid along the back of the black metal mailbox until she felt the familiar outline of the key, still taped there after her two year absence.

Her hand was shaking, her mind still uncertain, as she pushed the key into the lock and turned it until she heard the familiar click.

She walked slowly into the large entranceway, feeling her knees grow weak as she was hit by a barrage of memories. The first time she'd seen the house. The night Tommy had carried her over the threshold after their wedding. The limitless times she'd entered the house, anxious to see him. It all seemed like a lifetime ago.

She called his name to no avail, so after quickly searching the main level, she began to quietly climb the stairs.

She didn't hear a sound. Reaching the top of the stairs, her eyes darted towards the bedroom down the hall, the one that would have been the nursery and then Chloe's room. The heart wrenching reality, of how different things could have been, settled in her chest.

She forced her eyes away from that distant room, refocusing her attention on the bedroom she assumed Tommy still used. Beginning to think he wasn't even home, she walked quickly to the door and peeked inside.

As she stepped quietly inside the dark room, she felt immediately guilty that she'd doubted he might be sick. The curtains were drawn tightly shut, but despite the darkness, she could make out the outline of his shivering body lying on the bed. Tommy was sleeping feverishly, the covers twisted around his thrashing body, and she could tell without even taking him temperature that he had a raging fever. She'd dealt with this exact thing the few times he'd gotten sick when they'd been living together. She remembered she'd always been scared for him; the sickness seemed to ravage him so badly that she'd always wonder if he'd truly recover. She could feel that same fear taking root in her now.

She stepped forward tentatively, feeling the need to do something to help him rising up in her.

Without thinking any more about it, she let her instincts take over. Following the routine she'd established in the past, she rushed downstairs and grabbed a large bowl. Once back upstairs, she filled the bowl with cold water and tossed a couple cloths into the bowl. She approached the bed slowly, suddenly unsure of what she was doing. This wasn't her place anymore. Maybe he'd wake up and feel uncomfortable being in such a vulnerable position with her.

He moaned in his sleep, a deep, guttural noise that made her insides clench.

All hesitation fled. She couldn't leave him like this, despite how either of them might feel about it later.

She perched herself on the edge of the bed, next to his torso. Setting the bowl on the night table, she wrung out a cloth before placing it lightly on his blazing forehead. He flinched at the feel of the ice cold cloth on his forehead, his eyes opening slightly in shock.

There was recognition in his eyes, and could have sworn she saw a fleeting smile flash across his face before he closed his eyes again.

His body was shaking from the chills, and he was oscillating between sprawling out and curling in a fetal position. She remembered suddenly that he was always restless when he was sick. He never liked to sit still for long, even when he was sick.

She knew it was going to be a difficult few hours; he'd sleep off the majority of the illness in the next few hours as she did her best to keep his body cool. Later, once he was awake, he'd eat something to build his strength. And, miraculously, later tonight, he'd be almost back to normal. It was the chills and the fever that was the scary part.

"Jude," he sighed quietly, and she glanced up to his face, expecting to see his eyes open. But they weren't. He was still sleeping, apparently dreaming about her. She lifted her hand, smoothing his wet hair, brushing it off his face. He reacted unconsciously to her touch, his face leaning into her hand.

Breaking her gaze from his face, she stood, intending to replace the warming water in the bowl. Standing up, she was pained as she watched his vulnerable body shaking furiously. She leaned down, placing a chaste kiss on his forehead.

She leaned her head down beside his ear. "You'll be okay," she whispered, hoping helplessly that her words would bring him some sort of calm.

As she walked to the bathroom, she knew he'd be fine. He'd been through this many times before. Quite honestly, it was her she needed to worry about. Why it bothered her so intensely when he was in pain, and the fact that she felt the need to be the one to help him. She sighed loudly as she mused that if she was sending him mixed signals, she was sending the same ones to herself.

* * *

After a few long, anxious hours, during which she switched from dabbing his forehead with the cold cloths to watching him in worried anxiety, he finally settled into a peaceful sleep. Lifting her hand to his forehead once more for confirmation, she sighed in relief as she placed her hand to his cool skin. His fever had broken. Now, he just needed to sleep for a while longer.

She watched his steady breathing for a few moments before forcing herself to stand up, to walk away from the bed. She would wash the bowl and cloths and then she would go. He was going to be fine. For her own sanity, she needed to leave.

The hour she'd spent watching him, when she hadn't been fussing over how warm he was getting, she couldn't help but be pulled into the memories of the room. It was his bedroom now, but it was impossible to forget that it had once been theirs. This was the room where there had never been any boundaries between them.

As she began walking towards the bathroom, running away from thoughts of what the room meant to her, she tripped over something on the floor. Stopping herself from falling, she placed both palms on the wall for support.

Looking down, she was surprised to see the offending item was a large white box.

Her heart began racing wildly. For most people, the sight of this plain box wouldn't have caused any reaction at all. But she knew what this box held.

Her body slid bonelessly to the floor as she took a seat in front of the white box.

She shouldn't open it. She knew it. It was in the past. How was she ever going to move forward if she kept reminding herself of the past?

But like a temptation too great to resist, she carefully opened the lid of the box.

The tears began to build as she saw the item confronting her at the top of the box. It was Chloe's baby album, or at least it was supposed to be. She lifted it out, running her hand along the smooth leather cover. She remembered the day she and Tommy had purchased it. They hadn't known that Chloe was going to be a girl yet, but she had insisted on having an album so she could document things like the sonograms. She opened the album, her heart sinking as she took in the sonograms pictures.

The tears escaped her eyes, flooding down her cheeks. This was all that was left of her baby. This and the grave she hadn't been able to force herself to visit in two years.

She wiped furiously at the tears, mad at her body's betrayal of her desire to stay strong.

As she closed the album tightly and placed it on the floor next to her, some loose pictures slid out, spreading out all around her.

One by one she picked the images up in her shaking hand, watching before her eyes as the changes of her body had been documented on film. She remembered now how she'd insisted Tommy take a picture of her each month of her pregnancy so she'd be able to see how much her stomach grew. What seemed like a great idea at the time now only served as another reminder of a happy time that had been ripped away from her, from both of them.

Setting aside the painful images, she reached inside the box, pulling out a bunch of letters tied together with a ribbon. Although they had her name on the front, in Tommy's hurried scrawl, she was certain she'd never read them before. Tommy hadn't ever really been one for writing letters.

"Jude," Tommy called suddenly, his voice raspy from sleep. Sliding the letters in the large pocket on the front of her hoodie, she turned her body to face him.

He pulled himself into a sitting position, leaning against the headboard. She felt his stare, and noticed his smirk, as he looked down upon her as she sat on the floor. She watched as his eyes 

took in the white box, and his smirk evaporated. But instead of avoiding discussion of what she was doing, like she expected him to, he motioned for her to bring the box up to the bed.

Surprised, she piled the objects back into the box and did as he suggested, perching herself once again at the edge of the bed.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, noticing his eyes were clear, and his skin didn't look as flushed as it had before.

"Better," he murmured, his eyes focused on the box she had placed between them.

Feeling uncomfortable, she immediately began questioning him. "Can I get you something? Water, soup?" Anything that would take her out of the closeness of the room for a moment.

"I'm fine," he said gently, lifting his eyes to hers. He reached for the photo album, skimming through the few filled pages. "It feels like it was a lifetime ago that you put these in here."

"It was a lifetime ago," she said, looking away. But looking away didn't help because her eyes were only captured by the furniture she used to use or some other memory she and Tommy had made in this room.

"I remember every time you had a sonogram, we'd rush home from the appointment so you could add it to this collection," he recollected, and she could sense the smile in his voice.

She finally looked at him, noticing that he was now rifling through the pictures of her during each month of her pregnancy.

"You know, with how small you are, I always wondered how you'd ever carry the weight of the baby," he mused, his eyes glued to the pictures.

"Well, it certainly wasn't easy, I'll tell you that. Every morning I woke up wondering if that was the morning I was going to topple over because of the weight the front of my body was carrying," she joked, a small smile breaking out on her face.

He barked out a loud, surprised laugh. "You never told me that," he said, still laughing quietly to himself. "But now that you mention it, I did notice how careful you were when you got out of bed in the morning."

As she joined in with his quiet laughter over the absurdity of her behavior, she couldn't believe that they were actually finding something to laugh about. It felt good. It made her think that there might be a point in life where she wouldn't be shrouded in the darkness of her daughter's death.

She watched nervously as he searched the rest of the box. Her eyes searched his for any sign that he noticed the missing letters. But, other than a slight hesitation, she didn't notice anything.

She breathed out a sigh of relief as he pulled out a small stuffed teddy bear. Any laughter that was still swilling around in the air immediately died.

As she stared at the same brown bear in Tommy's hand, she couldn't help but remember the story behind it. She had been out one day while Tommy was at work, and she'd found the most adorable little teddy bear. Even though she'd only been three months pregnant, she'd decided that she had to buy it. It was just too cute not to. When she'd gotten home, Tommy met her at the door, the excitement in his eyes contagious. He'd told her that, after work, he'd swung by the department store to pick up a few things. And he'd spotted the most adorable teddy bear that their little girl just had to have. He'd pulled it out from behind his back and she'd broken into boisterous laughter when she'd seen that it was the exact same bear she'd bought that afternoon. They'd shared a good laugh about it once she explained what was so funny. But that unfortunately was not where the story ended. They had requested that one of the bears be buried with Chloe. It was a small way of staying connected to her, since she had one bear to hold on to and they had the other one.

She saw his eyes begin to cloud with tears, as his usually stoic exterior began to crack. She could only imagine that the same thoughts flooded back to him at seeing the bear.

She felt a drop of moisture on her arm, and realized that without knowing it, she'd begun to cry again.

And in that moment, without knowing who reached forward first, she found herself crushed in his tight embrace. She could hear his quiet sobbing in her ear, and she felt his tears dampening her shirt as he buried his head against her shoulder. Her own tears fell quickly, her vision hazy from the torrent of moisture leaving her eyes.

As her tears dried up, her eyes grew suddenly heavy, and she fought to keep them open. Losing that battle, she felt Tommy readjusting them both to a lying position. Instead of fighting against it, she nestled closer into him and allowed her eyes to flutter closed, desperately needing the comfort that this moment, and his arms, held.

* * *

He rummaged around the kitchen, looking for something to satiate his growling stomach. He hadn't eaten anything at all, and in order to stave off the nausea that he felt after having not eaten for so long, he was on the hunt for food. Otherwise, he'd never have left the warm comfort of her arms.

The afternoon had been… intense. During the worst of his sickness, he'd managed to open his eyes a few times to confirm that she was actually there. That had been a shock all on its own. Then, going through the box with her, sharing something so personal in a way they'd never allowed before, it felt…revitalizing. Honestly, it had been a long time coming and he was glad that they'd finally been able to cry together. To begin to mourn their daughter. Together.

After finally locating some soup and placing it in a pot on the stove to boil, he heard the creak of the stairs, notifying him that she was on her way down. He turned to meet her tired, embarrassed glance.

"I'm sorry I fell asleep," she muttered, still wiping the sleep out of her eyes. "I'm not doing a great job looking after you if you have to get your own food."

"It was an emotional afternoon. I think we both needed a nap," he said honestly, smiling sympathetically.

She looked away quickly, suspiciously intrigued by the surroundings of the kitchen, that hadn't changed since she left. Sensing she wasn't ready to talk about what had happened, he didn't push it. Not today.

"So, not that I'm not happy you're here, but I have to ask. What made you come?"

She blushed in embarrassment, and his need to know only intensified. "Well, I read something in the paper… and I wanted to… I don't know. I guess I wanted to try and head you off before you read it for yourself."

He was becoming more curious by the minute. He was also increasingly amused by the nervousness that seemed to possess her. "What was it?"

"There was a stupid, false article about Speid and me. Well, you know…" she said rapidly, grabbing the paper from her bag and handing it to him.

As he looked at the large photo and skimmed the article, he felt her nervous eyes staring at him, trying to decipher his reaction.

He couldn't totally suppress the twinge of jealousy, mostly at the close proximity of her and Speid in the picture. But, more than anything, he was encouraged by her reaction. The fact that she'd rushed to him to make sure he knew the truth. Why would she care about his reaction if she really wanted the divorce? Shouldn't she be happy that he might think she'd moved on?

He tilted his head up, meeting her worried gaze. He smirked, chuckling loudly.

"What are you laughing at?" she asked, clearly confused.

"Jude, I'm not sure why you're worried about this. I know you. I know the truth of what's going on. Besides, you're the worst liar I've ever met. You're also the only person I know better than I know myself, even after all this time. If something was going on with Speid, I'd know it. I'm not saying I like that you live with the guy. But I know there's nothing going on."

He took in her relieved gaze, his amusement only growing. "I have to say, it's kinda cute that you stopped by to tell me the truth yourself," he teased.

"Shut up, Quincy," she retorted, and he assumed she was annoyed that she was so transparent.

Watching her annoyed expression, he couldn't help but laugh. She punched him lightly in the arm and, underestimating the strength he'd regained since this morning, his body trembled under her weak assault.

"Wow. Not too steady on your feet there, Quincy. Or maybe you're just normally this weak now?" she quipped, and despite the sudden lightheadedness he felt from being on his feet for too long, he was enjoying the lightness of the atmosphere. "Let's get you back to bed, and then I'll bring you up some soup."

Her hand wrapped around his waist, and he could swear his body began to tingle where her hands rested. He swung his arm around her shoulders as she assisted him up the stairs. He wasn't that weak that he couldn't have climbed the stairs on his own. But, hell, who was he to resist her help, especially when it meant touching her?

She helped him back into bed, and his hands lingered longer than necessary on her arms. He couldn't resist. He didn't know when he'd get the chance to touch her again.

After exerting himself so much in his weakened state, his eyes felt heavy. Although he struggled to keep them open to spend more time with her, he was helpless as they began to shut. As the darkness began to take over, all he could see was her smiling, laughing face in his mind.

* * *

She should leave. She knew it. He was fine. He was sleeping soundly, and by the sounds of it, he would be out for a long while. She knew he was over the worst of whatever flu virus he had. After all, she'd seen him go through almost exactly the same thing before. But she couldn't push the worry completely away.

She gathered her stuff, stashing the collection of letters safely in her purse, and descended the stairs, heading for the front door.

But as she reached for the doorknob, she found that she couldn't do it. She couldn't leave.

Dropping her stuff on the table by the front door, she slowly climbed the stairs again and walked through his open doorway.

What was she doing?

From a few feet away, she watched him sleeping for what seemed like hours, focusing on his steady intake of breath and the peaceful look that overcame him while he slept.

Finally, instead of trying to leave again, she walked over to the window and collapsed in the comfortable arm chair, settling in for the night.


	20. Chapter Nineteen

**A/N**: Finally! Update time! I'm so sorry it's taken so long. Life and all that goes with it just keeps getting in the way. Anyway, thanks for you patience. I hope you enjoy the chapter. Please let me know what you think!

**A/N 2**: The songs featured are: Needtobreathe's "Quit," Holly Brook's "What I Wouldn't Do," and Lifehouse's "If This is Goodbye," none of which I own.

* * *

Chapter Nineteen:

Watching him stride purposefully into his studio, across the hall from her own, she suddenly remembered something she'd read in a book once. She had read that the most important things about life could all be seen in a series of small, seemingly infinitesimal details. These are the small details that people never take the time to notice. A simple caress of skin on skin, or a smile so warm that it results in the heating of the receiver's skin.

She'd never believed the truth of this statement. Until now.

She now believed it was the small things that were going to kill her. Ever since that night the week before when she'd spent the night fitfully resting in the chair in Tommy's bedroom, watching him sleep, she'd begun to notice all of the small things about him again. How he smiled unabashedly in his sleep while he dreamed. How he smiled politely, and warmly, at all the G-Major staff, regardless of their position in the company. How he extended his kindness to help the new assistant pick up the papers that slipped through her nervous, shaking fingers. She also couldn't help but notice how, like herself, he lurked at the edge of the crowd when Jon, the sound technician, brought his new baby girl in to show her off that very afternoon. Seeing Jon's gleam of pride and the loving way he watched his daughter, her mind was filled with thoughts of what should have been. She couldn't stop her mind from bringing forth images of another man, a man who should've been a father. A man who should have carried this same blissful gleam in his eyes. Instead, the eyes of the man she pictured only carried pain.

Trying desperately to ward off the vision of Tommy holding their own baby girl, visions she'd imagined countless times in her mind since Chloe's death, she'd rushed to her studio B and roughly snapped her headphones on her head, playing back her new song for the millionth time.

For two hours she'd been working on perfecting this song. She was both worried about making it as good as it could be but also about keeping her mind off Tommy. He'd inhabited her mind more than she had liked this past week.

Even now, while still attempting to focus on the song, she couldn't help but think about the morning after she'd slept in the chair in his bedroom. She'd awakened to Tommy lightly shaking her arm, holding a large mug in his free hand. The smell of the coffee had permeated her nostrils almost immediately and she'd instantly reached for the cup. Although it was hard to believe that anything could have been more intoxicating than the warm coffee sliding down her throat, when her eyes locked on the limitless depths of his, she had been… transfixed.

Caught off guard by her sleepiness and her presence in their old bedroom, his inviting, tender look had shattered her, pulling her into memories of the past. Memories of love and passion. Feelings that she'd experienced so intensely. Feelings that, if she was honest with herself, she still felt.

His face, only inches from her, had dared her to make a move. She knew it would have been so easy to pull him down to her and kiss him. She'd done it a thousand times, sitting in that exact chair.

Her mind had raced to catch up, and as it did, it reminded her of the present. Of the reasons why they weren't together. His words of the past had filled her mind, echoing so that she couldn't concentrate on anything else but the tone of spite and anger he'd spoken with that night.

It had been this frenzy of thoughts and emotions that had her jumping out of the chair. She had succeeded in both spilling her coffee and almost knocking Tommy off his feet. Mumbling excuses, she had fled the room, too overwhelmed to think of anything but getting away, running away from the very real temptation that his presence presented.

And she had. She'd run straight to the studio, throwing herself into work. And she'd barely left this room the past week, only leaving to go to her apartment to sleep or to go to studio C to work with SME. Tommy had been too busy to do more than check up on her every now and then. And when he had, she'd been polite but distant. She'd been foolish, letting herself get close to him again.

She sat in front of the soundboard now, still hiding out. But while she could shut him out physically, she couldn't stop her mind from reminding her of the last month and a half.

She'd done a lot of thinking in the past week, and she'd come to the obvious conclusion that she'd been an idiot. Since she'd been in Toronto, regardless of her intentions to stay away from him, she'd only gotten closer and closer. And that had culminated in her desire to kiss him in their bedroom. As if the last two years of distance hadn't mattered. As if the words he'd spoken could be forgotten. The problem didn't lie in the kiss itself; he'd already kissed her in her apartment and she knew exactly how amazing and irresistible his lips felt on hers. The thing that scared her was that this time, she's been the one who'd wanted to kiss him. She had been seconds away from initiating it.

Coming back to Toronto, deciding to stay to try and live her life again in this city had been a mistake. She saw that now. If she stayed, she knew it was only a matter of time until she ended back up in his arms. It was a habit she couldn't break. But she couldn't do it again. She needed to move on with her life. Too much had happened, too much they couldn't change. They couldn't go back, but they both needed the closure necessary so that they could move on.

Sometime during the week, she'd had the fleeting thought that she should run again. But as quickly as the thought has passed through her mind, she'd rejected it. She couldn't just take off this time. Not again. She had promised Darius she would finish her album, and he'd already begun to put a lot of press behind her new release. Besides, thinking of the hurt she'd caused by taking off suddenly the last time, she knew she couldn't do that again. As soon as her album was wrapped, and the divorce papers signed, she'd say goodbye to her friends and family properly. Then she'd move on. She'd find a new life somewhere far away. Maybe she'd go back to L.A. Maybe she'd try somewhere else. She just knew she couldn't stay. With Tommy in such close proximity, she knew she'd never forget what had happened, or how she'd felt about him. How she still felt. And it was too much for her fragile psyche to deal with.

For the past week, she'd been busy writing a new song, one that she was going to play at the showcase in two days. She hoped it would tell him exactly what she wanted and needed from him. And maybe help them both get a bit of closure. She'd been obsessing over the song. She had to admit she was nervous about playing it, anxious about his reaction. Especially since she knew it would not be what he would be hoping to hear.

* * *

Jamie quietly opened the doorway to Jude's studio, making sure not to interrupt her while she focused on the lyrics of a song she was working on. It was times like this, watching her focusing intently on scribbling in her journal, that he realized just how much he'd missed her the past two years. Actually, he'd missed her for longer than that. Ever since Chloe's death, almost three years ago, Jude hadn't been the same. Following Chloe's death, his best friend had been merely a shadow of her previous self. She'd been withdrawn and devoid of all emotions. He'd hated seeing her like that, so unlike the emotional, passionate Jude he'd grown up with. But things had changed. When she had arrived back in Toronto, he'd been worried about her. She had looked pale and sad, still reflecting an emptiness in her eyes that was hard to accept in his friend who had once been so full of life. But the months that she'd been back in Toronto had changed her. The old Jude, the emotional, sometimes raging, sometimes crying, sometimes screaming with happiness, Jude was coming back. Emotions which he'd feared were dead in her were re-emerging. And whether he or Jude wanted to admit it, Jamie was pretty sure there was only one man to blame for pulling the old Jude out of the empty shell she'd become.

Tommy Quincy.

His relationship with Tommy had always been tentative at best. But after Jude had married him, he'd tried easing up on the guy. Then with all the turmoil Tommy had suffered, Jamie had actually felt sorry for him, not that Tommy would have appreciated that particular sentiment.

Watching Tommy nearly self-destruct after Jude left had been awful. Regardless of the tension between them, he'd pitied and empathized with the man who'd lost his daughter in such a horrifying way.

Now, knowing what he'd said to Jude that night she'd run from Toronto, Jamie wasn't sure exactly how he felt towards Tommy. He wanted to hate him, feel the same abhorrence towards him that he used to. But, although he was furious, he couldn't exactly hate the guy. Maybe it was the way he'd watch him suffer. Or the way he'd been acting so... gentle towards Jude in the last month. Whatever it was, he found himself unable to loathe Tommy Quincy. Instead, he had begun to see both Jude and Tommy as two scarred individuals, beaten by the hand that life had dealt them.

"Earth to Jamie!" Jude's voice broke through his thoughts, and he finally noticed her hands waving in front of his face. "Are you okay?"

He recovered himself from the upsetting line of thinking. "I'm fine. I was just thinking about how I've barely seen my best friend in the last few weeks. I was hoping to remedy that with dinner."

She looked at her watch and shot him a hesitant look. "Come on, Jude. We both know what happens to you if you miss a meal. I for one don't want to deal with the wrath of a hungry Jude," he joked.

She playfully slapped his arm, but stood up and gathered her belongings. "Fine. Since you're so insistent on feeding me, I suppose I'll consent." She laughed as he swung his arm around her shoulders.

It was such a comforting feeling, just being with his best friend again. He had always known that she was special to him, but he hadn't realized how much he depended on her friendship until she was no longer there for him to talk to. It had been a long two years without any contact with her. Even the past few months that she'd been back, he hadn't spent nearly enough time with her.

No more wasting time. They were long past due for some Jude and Jamie best friend bonding time.

* * *

Dinner with Jamie was exactly what she needed. As she sat across from him at the diner they had frequented almost every day as teenagers, she laughed heartily at one of Jamie's attempts at humor. She laughed more because he was trying to be funny than because he'd actually accomplished that. She smiled at him, seized suddenly by the thought of how much she'd miss him when she left again.

As she sobered, her face mirrored her changing mood.

"What's wrong?" Jamie asked, his face exuding concern.

"Nothing, I... I just think there's something we need to talk about."

"Well, judging by your face, I'm guessing this isn't something happy that we need to talk about."

"Well... I've made some decisions. As you know, I've asked Tommy for a divorce." As she spoke, she twisted her wedding band on her finger nervously. "Well, I wasn't sure that I would ever be able to go 

through with it. But I've decided to proceed with it." Stopping the nervous movements of her fingers, she did what she was unable to do only a few short months ago. She slowly slid her wedding band and her engagement ring off her finger and carefully placed them on the table between them.

"I'm sorry, Jude. I know that must be a hard decision to make," he said, leaning forward and placing a supportive hand on hers.

She glanced up at him, at his familiar, comforting face. She felt a flash of sadness, knowing her next statement was going to hurt him. "There's more. As soon as my album's finished and my divorce proceedings are underway, I'm... well, I'm not going to stay in town."

Jamie's face fell at the news. "I'm sorry," she whispered, squeezing his hand. "I know I just got back but things are different for me now. I can't stay here and see Tommy and not be with him. I have to be realistic about that. I thought I could do it but I can't. It hurts too much. Thinking about it hurts too much. These few months in Toronto have made me realize that it's really time for me to move on. Since I came back, I've been talking in circles, saying I've wanted to move on. But I've done nothing to actually achieve any closure with Tommy. With my life here. I need to do that, as soon as I tie up the loose ends of my life here."

"Is that what I am? A loose end?" Jamie asked, the anger and confusion evident in his voice.

She swiped away the tear that slid down her cheek. "Of course not!" she asserted emphatically. "You're my best friend. You've been my best friend since before I even knew what a best friend is. I love you, Jamie Andrews and I'm not telling you this to hurt you. I'm telling you this so that we can both prepare this time. I don't want to make the same mistakes again. I don't want to hurt you like that again. And this time, I promise to keep in touch with you. I could never apologize enough for the distance and the time lost. But that doesn't change what I need to do. For my own sanity."

Jamie leaned forward, wiping the remaining tears off her face. He sighed loudly, in resignation. "I'm sorry. I know you're not trying to hurt me. I'm just selfish and want you to stay. But, of course, you know I'll support you no matter what you do."

"Thanks, Jamie," she said softly, trying to keep back more tears from flowing.

"How did Tommy take the news?"

She looked down, her eyes caught by the glint of light reflecting off her rings on the table.

"You haven't told him," Jamie said, stating the obvious answer that he read on her face.

She shook her head. "You're actually the first person I've told. I'm not sure how I'm going to tell everyone else. As far as Tommy, well... I've written a song to try and tell him what I need. Music was how we always communicated. He won't listen when I tell him I can't be with him and I think it might be the only way I'll get through to him now. I'm hoping he'll hear the truth in it, that I need closure. Maybe he'll see that that's what he really needs too. And maybe then he'll let me go."

Jamie's face reflected his doubt. "I don't think it will matter what you do or say or sing. Tommy's not going to want to let you go again."

"I know. He's so determined that we can be what we once were. But, he doesn't know..." she trailed off, looking out the window, her eyes suddenly distant.

"Have you thought about telling him about that night?"

"I can't. It would ruin him. I want to end things on a positive note, with no bitterness between us. I feel like we've gotten to a point where we can finally do that. In time, I hope he'll see that it was necessary."

"And you think this song is going to magically help him understand that closure is what you really need from him?"

She eyed him hesitantly, simultaneous wanting to ask him to listen to the song and unsure for a second if she wanted to share it. But then again, she thought to herself, in two days everyone was going to hear it anyway. Surely it couldn't hurt to let someone she trusted hear it first. Swallowing back her hesitation, she asked, "Do you... do you want to hear it?"

* * *

She pulled Jamie into Studio B, locking the door quickly behind them. She'd noticed Tommy busy at work in his own studio, and didn't want to take the chance that he'd walk in and hear her song before she was ready for him to hear it. She was feeling nervous enough; her palms were sweating at the prospect of letting Jamie hearing it, and the lyrics were certainly not intended for him.

She pushed Jamie into one of the chairs behind the soundboard and began setting up the equipment.

Before she had a chance to change her mind, she hit play. As she caught a glimpse of her hand, she noticed how strange it looked without her engagement ring and wedding band. They'd been there for so long; they'd seemed like they belonged there. Instead of lighter, her hand actually felt heavier, like it was weighted down by the truth of what she had done.

She watched as a bevy of emotions played on her friend's face as he listened to the song. She wasn't sure whether his changing expression was a good or a bad thing.

As the final notes wafted through the air, she watched his face anxiously, waiting for some response. When he stayed silent, she couldn't help but push him. "What do you think?"

"Jude, it's… amazing." She could tell by the look on his face that he had more to say than just this. Jamie was her very opinionated best friend. There's no way all his thoughts were summed up in this one sentence.

"But what do you think Tommy's going to think?" she pressed. She felt like she was obsessed. She knew she shouldn't care about Tommy's reaction so much but she couldn't help herself. "I mean, I don't want to be harsh towards him. I just… I've tried talking to him, tried telling him that we're over. Do you think this will help him come to terms with that?"

"Jude, it's a beautiful song. I don't think Tommy can miss the point of it. But, on the other hand, it's not hitting him over the head and screaming that you hate him or anything. I think it's the perfect middle ground."

"I don't hate him," she immediately corrected him.

"What do you feel?" Jamie challenged. "I mean, I know you're saying you want your marriage to be over. And I support you 100. But have you really thought through what that means?"

She looked at him, outraged. Her marriage to Tommy, and what she should do about, was the only thought that had plagued her thoughts for weeks. "Have I thought about it?! I haven't been able to stop thinking about it! About what it will mean once Tommy finally signs those papers. That we're over. That 

we're officially finished with each other. That after he signs those papers, he's free to find someone else to love and I will not be able to have an opinion about it. He'll be out of my life for good. I never thought that would ever happen."

Treading lightly after her brief outburst, he asked quietly, "I know I sound like a therapist here, but how do you feel about all of that?"

She bit her lip nervously. "Honestly, it's scary. And it hurts. Especially since we've reconnected a bit lately. But I feel like, right now when I interact with Tommy we're trying to live out the past. We're stuck trying to be who we used to be to each other, not really facing what happened or how we hurt each other. Or the fact that things have changed. I know the fault probably lies mostly with me in that regard, but I feel like the divorce, the dissolution of what we used to be, it's what I need," she asserted, hoping, in her heart of hearts, that she was right about that. "I need to face the fact that my future is not going to be what I once thought it was going to be." She hoped that would help her. That moving on was the key to finding some kind of harmony in her life. All she knew was that something wasn't right inside her. Although she'd been doing better lately, there was still something off inside of her. She hoped that in the next few weeks, through finalizing the divorce, finishing her contract with G-Major and leaving Toronto for good, she would find the peace she so desperately desired.

* * *

Two days later, she stood in front of the mirrors in one of the dressing rooms of the concert hall Darius had booked for the Artist Showcase. Normally Darius held these shindigs at G-Major, but since this particular showcase was heralding the return of three high profile acts, he seemed to want to go all out. She really wished he hadn't decided to make this such a splashy event. The pressure only made her more nervous.

She couldn't believe the showcase was tonight, that in a matter of less than two hours she would be back performing on the stage. She felt so unprepared to be on the stage, the centre of attention again. But she counted her lucky stars that preparing and rehearsing for the showcase had been keeping Tommy occupied this past week. They hadn't had any real alone time since she'd run from his house that morning. Although her eyes had been watching him, having physical distance between them made it easier for her to think rationally. To realize and accept what she needed to do. And having made the decision to leave again, after she'd tied up the loose ends of her life in Toronto, so fresh in her mind, she was glad that she hadn't had to talk to him. The two months she'd promised Tommy was going to be up in three weeks, and her album was very near completion. After that, she'd say goodbye and she'd be off again. She knew that if Tommy had a chance to talk to her, even to look at her for more than a moment, he'd know something was up with her, that she was hiding something rather momentous. She couldn't let him see that. She couldn't give him a chance to talk her into staying. To be quite honest, she was afraid that if she gave him that chance, she'd actually take him up on it.

A loud knock reverberated through the room and it startled Jude out of her dangerous thoughts. She quickly paced to the door and opened it wide, revealing Speid standing calmly in the hallway.

"How are you doing rock star?" he asked as he strode into her dressing room and collapsed on the couch. She was beyond envious. He was so calm and collected, while she felt like her whole body was shaking with nerves.

"I'm managing," she answered honestly, pacing the floor in front of him. "I've been the worst producer ever for you and the guys. Are you all ready to go?"

Speid waved her off. "You're the best manager we've ever had. You know when we need a push and when to leave us be. And yes, we're beyond ready. But then, we're not the ones who took over two years off from recording and performing."

She glared at him. "Don't remind me. Like I'm not nervous enough already."

As she moved in front of him, he grabbed her hand and pulled her down to sit beside him. Placing his hands firmly on her upper arms, he looked intently into her eyes. "You are going to be fine. You are a born performer."

"It's just..."

"What?"

"Well, one of my songs... it's not just an ordinary song. And now, I'm wondering if I'm crazy for deciding to play it tonight."

"Jude, your songs are never just ordinary songs. What's got you so nervous about singing this specific song?"

Her gaze moved nervously from his face to her hands, which she was wringing nervously in her lap. "It's about Tommy. It's... about what I want from him now."

"And I'm going to take a stab in the dark that it's not going to match what he wants from you."

She shook her head vigorously.

"Jude, when has a song ever been just a song for you? Music is how you two communicate, the language you speak towards each other. I think it would be totally _abnormal_ if you weren't expressing your feelings in this way."

She sighed, knowing that he was right. Unfortunately, that didn't make her feel any better or any less nervous. "I know. I just... I don't want to hurt him. Especially tonight. This is a big night for him professionally."

"Jude, you have to be true to yourself. And you have to be honest. Tommy's a big boy. He can handle the truth. We both know he's been through a lot worse."

Speid's mention of honesty had her thoughts taking a slight detour. She bowed her head, avoiding eye contact with him as she said, "In the interest of honesty, there's something I need to tell you. I'm not going to stay in Toronto. After my album wraps and I sort things out with Tommy... I'm going to take off again. I'm sorry, I know we're roommates and I should have discussed this with you."

He lifted her chin, making her look at him. "Jude, you have to do what you have to do. Just don't be a stranger this time."

She smiled weakly, knowing she didn't deserve such amazing people in her life. Jamie and Speid had both been so understanding about her need to leave, to move on. All her family and friends had accepted her back in their lives after two years without any real denunciation or anger. She knew she didn't deserve their understanding or their friendship. And here she was, planning to leave again.

She was such a mess.

A knock on the open door had both of their heads spinning towards the source of the interruption.

"Speid, SME is on in 10. Darius is looking for you," Sasha, one of the assistants, informed him before striding away.

They both stood, and she reached forward, clutching him in a tight hug. "Thanks Speid. For everything." She pulled back, smiling proudly at the man he'd become. "Good luck out there tonight."

"Thanks Milady Rock Star. Same goes for you. Not that you'll need it!" He called out, looking back towards her as he strolled out through the doorway.

She laughed, but almost immediately sobered when she realized how much she was going to miss him.

* * *

She watched proudly from the side of the stage as Speiderman Mind Explosion opened up the show with a bang. They were phenomenal. Better performers than she even remembered. She was so excited for them because she could tell how happy they all were. She could see on their faces that this was exactly where all three of them wanted to be. They were in the moment. They were on cloud nine.

She was instantly jealous. She wanted that. She wanted to be genuinely, blissfully happy again. But as much as she wanted it, she honestly doubted that that was one emotion she would ever truly feel again. She might experience shades of happiness one day; but the true, simple, bursting joy she'd once felt seemed to be too far out of her reach.

She was so lost in thought, she hadn't noticed the presence beside her.

"You okay?" Tommy asked, the concern evident in his voice. Surprised, she cocked her head sideways, staring at him as if she wondered how he'd inexplicably materialized at her side.

Turning her head back towards the stage, determined to keep her eyes focused on SME, she answered, "I'm fine. Just nervous."

He laughed lightly. "You, nervous? Say it isn't so!" he said in mock surprise. "I don't remember you ever being nervous, even when you were performing to win the Instant Star competition."

Ignoring the laughter in his voice, she replied honestly, and without warmth. "Actually, I almost threw up before I sang on the Instant Star competition. Jamie and Kat had to drag me out of the bathroom."

She felt his warm touch on her arm, and she instantly leaned away from him. Her instinct was to lean into him, not away from him. But she couldn't allow that. That would only lead to further weakening and she couldn't do that to herself or him.

"Seriously, are you going to be okay?" He stepped closer, moving to stand in front of her, effectively blocking her view of SME on the stage. He slid his hands along her shoulders in a supportive movement. She cursed her weakness as the heat that his fingers left in their wake had her knees shaking below her.

"I'll be fine. It's just been a long time." She blinked to keep the tears, which had for some mysterious reason begun to form behind her eyes, at bay. Maybe it was because once he heard the song he'd know they were done. And once he knew, then she'd have to face the reality of what she was doing. Or maybe it was the whirlwind emotions that surrounded the idea of singing in public again. Allowing herself to open up in that public way again. Whatever it was, she felt raw, and vulnerable and exhausted. And she hadn't even sung yet.

He massaged her shoulders lightly. "You're going to be great. I have absolute faith in you, Jude."

She shut her eyes tightly against the deluge of tears. Despite everything, those words meant something. No, she corrected herself. They meant _everything_.

SME ran off the stage loudly, cheering happily. Tommy squeezed her arms once more, not breaking his worried stare until Darius reminded him that it was his turn. Then he smiled and turned towards the stage, walking out to the loudest screams she'd ever heard.

She intended to walk away while he performed, but something she couldn't explain had her feet stuck to the floor, mesmerized by the sight of him on stage.

Seeing him on the stage, she was struck instantly by how natural it looked. She'd seen him perform with BoyzAttack, but never a concert on his own. And he'd never looked really happy as part of the group. On his own, he was a bona fide rock star. As he began to strum the guitar, it looked like it was an extension of him, a part of his body.

The band kicked in, the meshing of drums, guitars and bass so wonderful that she was unsure if she'd ever heard anything so amazing.

Then he started singing. It was... flawless and rich and beautiful. She'd heard him sing before, but this was even better than she remembered.

Her heart fluttered as her muddled brain began to process pieces of the lyrics he sang.

_**Tell me do you feel it  
Feel it when your heart starts letting go?  
I'm unsure now if I could ever tell you no  
I've been seeing traces of everything I used to know was right**__**  
I can't leave now  
I need you to remember  
**__**It's not like all my love was understood**_

She felt his gaze lock on her every so often, as if she was his touchstone.

As he kicked into the chorus, she felt the tears stream freely down her cheeks.

_**Don't just tell me that it's over  
I want to know how we can make it  
I know I'm lost  
I know I'm lost but not forsaken**_

She noticed his expression change from pleading to concern, and she figured he must have noticed the tears. He was going to be hurt; that she could see clearly now. It was such a complicated mess. Just as she had been planning to tell him how she felt about their situation through song, he had been doing the same. Just as she was going to ask for closure, he was asking for a new beginning. They weren't remotely on the same page. In fact, their thoughts were so dissimilar, it's like they were in different books completely.

He reached the bridge, and he turned his face, unashamedly staring at her, the unrefuted subject of his heartfelt song.

_**I'm not giving up,  
I'm not laying down,  
I'm not leaving without you  
'Cause we're all the same,  
We all need to stay  
When they tell us that we're through**_

Her breath caught in her throat at his earnest words, his pleading for her to stay with him. And when his gaze returned to the audience, she broke into a run, headed for her dressing room.

* * *

She sat on the couch in her plush dressing room, her head burrowed between her knees as she tried to take deep breaths. She couldn't breathe. She physically couldn't push the air out of her lungs.

She'd known very well how he felt, that he'd wanted to make their marriage work again. But the truth of his feelings hadn't been truly evident until she'd heard the song. Just as she was about to push for closure, he was pushing in the complete opposite direction.

She heard the sound of footsteps as someone bounded down the hall. "Jude, you're on in—" She looked up to see Speid burst through the door. His face fell instantly, and she wondered just how ghastly she looked. "Oh my God, are you okay?"

"Did you hear his song?" she asked, wiping the remnants of her tears off her face.

"Of course I did. Look, he said his piece. You have every right to say yours. Only you know what you truly want. What you truly feel. And you have every right to express it, just like he has every right to sing about how he's feeling. It doesn't make your feelings wrong, Jude."

She took a deep breath, trying to keep further tears from falling. "I know, you're right. It's just… hard. All of this. I feel like I'm being pulled in two directions."

"Do you believe in the songs you're going to sing tonight?"

She nodded. Of course she did. She never would've written them otherwise.

"Then that's all you need to worry about right now. Just go out there and sing your butt off. Don't let the rest, the drama and the uncertainty get in the way of that moment when you're out there."

She took a deep breath and stood up. He was right. She needed to focus. She was a singer, a performer. At least for tonight anyway. And she needed him to hear her song. He'd moved her with his song, with his touching lyrics, but that didn't ultimately change the way she felt about her future.

"Thanks, Speid," she said, hugging him. She took one long look in the mirror before she turned and strode out the door, heading to the stage.

After all this time, it was her moment to shine again.

* * *

_**What I wouldn't give just to forget  
What I wouldn't give to get some rest  
**__**What I wouldn't give just to forget  
So I can remember how to live**_

The final words of her first song slipped from her lips, and she heard the clamoring of the crowd. Well, at least she knew one thing in her life was right. Singing, performing, it was part of her. The sensation of being on the stage it provided such a rush, a feeling she'd almost forgotten after all this time. Performing, this union between her and the crowd that transpired when she sang, it was in her blood.

Tommy was standing at the side of the stage, in the exact spot where she had stood to watch him. She didn't even have to look for him. She could sense his presence there and his penetrating gaze as he watched her.

She spoke a few words to the crowd, thanking everyone for coming out and welcoming her back so warmly. Feeling so nervous about the next song she was going to sing, however, she couldn't keep focused. Her heart was pounding so loudly in her ears that she couldn't concentrate on most of what she was saying.

"I'd like to play a new song for you tonight," she said, her voice quivering. "It means a lot to me, says a lot about who I am now, and I hope it will mean something to you too."

She began to strum her guitar, praying that she could make it through the song without breaking down.

She began to sing, forcing herself to look out into the audience and not at the one person to whom this song was directed.

_**And day lights, craving  
Sunshine on this frozen heart  
I am wishing you well  
Wondering how you are**_

**If you and I are going under  
Maybe we can both recover  
And find forgiveness for each other  
Even if this is goodbye**

As she sang the last line of the chorus, she couldn't stop herself from glancing quickly in his direction. He looked confused, hurt. Bewildered, even. Because she knew that he didn't see the necessity for 'goodbye' the way that she did. Her heart sunk, as she saw the effect of her words flash across his face.

_**And time heals  
But these scars keep on tearing us apart  
And sometimes ending is the only place to start**_

Regardless of how much her brain was telling her to look away, her eyes were drawn back to him. She almost tripped over her words when she took in his expression. It was blank, dead, flat. And that was that scariest part because she knew exactly what that meant. Telling him, through the song, that they had to say goodbye, it had affected him deeply and he didn't want anyone to see that. But she did. She always saw him, saw what he felt when no one else had any clue.

_**If you and I are going under  
Maybe we can both recover  
And find forgiveness for each other  
Even if  
**__**  
If what we had is really over  
If fate is out there we discover  
Let's find forgiveness for each other  
Even if this is goodbye**_

She sang the rest of the lyrics taking special care not to let her eyes roam from the audience. She kept them glued on Jamie, on Mason, on Darius, on anyone in the crowd she recognized. She searched for Kwest and Sadie, but she didn't see their faces among the throng of people.

When she played the last note on the guitar, she plastered a fake smile on her face. She wanted to be happy about the performance. A part of her was; the fans had loved her songs. But another part of her was mourning for the end of her relationship with Tommy. Because, by putting the words out there, it was clear she'd made her decision.

She lifted her guitar strap from her shoulder, handing it to one of the assistants as she walked off the stage.

She walked quickly through the halls, trying to avoid everyone. She needed to be alone. She needed to think about what she had done, about the look on his face. About what all of this meant.

As she reached for the door of her dressing room, she felt a hand on her arm, restraining her movements.

Without looking behind her, she knew it was him.

"We need to talk," he said, his voice tight.

"Not right now," she muttered, not turning around, still not looking at him. She pushed her door open, throwing off his restraining arm. She grabbed her stuff, feeling his stare locked on her as he stood blocking the doorway.

Knowing she couldn't move past him unless he allowed her to, she lifted her face, meeting his eyes. His beautiful, expressive eyes, which were trying unsuccessfully to mask the conflicting emotions he was feeling. "I know you want to talk. I know we need to talk. But not tonight. I just need to go home tonight and get some sleep."

He must have seen the exhaustion in her eyes because, after a hint of hesitation flashed across his face, he didn't fight her. "Fine," he said, clenching his hands into fists. "I'll pick you up tomorrow morning and we'll talk then. Because we're not leaving things like this." And without another word, he spun on his heels and marched hurriedly out the door.

After he left, she collapsed on the couch, completely overwrought by the events of the night. She felt so tired, emotionally and physically. She just needed to sleep. For a very long time.

She stood up unsteadily, about to grab her belongings when her cell phone's loud ringing punctured the silence of the quiet room. She thought about ignoring it, but something inside her pushed her to answer it.

Noticing immediately that the call display was registering a number she didn't recognize, she opened her phone and pressed it to her ear.

"Hello?"

She began heading towards the door, juggling her belongings in her free hand, until the person at the end of line said something that stopped her in her tracks. "What?! Where??... Okay, I'll be right there."

She closed the phone, and with every ounce of strength she had left, she ran for the exit.


	21. Chapter Twenty

Chapter 20:

She walked slowly down the long, white corridor, fighting waves of uncertainty about her presence at the hospital. When Kwest called, her instincts had been to run to her sister's side. If there was any chance her sister was in trouble, she had to be there.

Kwest had sounded beyond terrified on the phone as he'd choked out the news that Sadie was due to give birth at any moment. His fear had tipped off an avalanche of old feelings. Swirling around inside of her were feelings about her own ill-fated 'delivery' day, and worries that her sister might suffer the same fate.

Regardless of the knowledge that she needed to be at the hospital for her sistefr, as she approached the waiting room all she could think was that she didn't want to be in this place again. This was the same hospital, the same wing, where she'd found out that her daughter wasn't going to be born alive. This place, its sterile rooms and colorless walls haunted her nightmares.

She hadn't been back since exiting through the large double doors alone, and she'd never intended on coming back. Ever. And now that she was back, she felt… cold. The raw pain seeping into her veins was stronger and worse than she had even remembered it to be.

_What was she doing here?_

As she turned to bolt for the exit, a familiar voice called her back. "Jude?!"

She turned at the sound of her brother-in-law's warm, but terrified, voice. "I'm so glad you're here," he said, sweeping her into a tight hug.

She smiled weakly as he released her. She couldn't run now. Not that she could have lived with herself later if she had.

"Any news?" she asked, walking beside Kwest down the long hall towards the waiting room.

He brushed his hand worriedly across his forehead. "She's a couple centimeters dilated. They asked me to leave the room for a few minutes so they could do some kind of examination. Honestly, I think I was just irritating the hell out of the doctors with all my questions." He laughed without a trace of humor.

He was clearly worried, and Jude had no clue what to say to him. After the horror she'd experienced, how could she possibly make anyone else feel better?

"She's strong. In fact, she's the strongest person I know. She'll be okay," Jude said, hoping with everything in her that it would be okay.

"She has to be," Kwest stated emphatically, and in that moment, the depth of his worry flashed across his face.

They reached the waiting room, where Stuart immediately jumped out of his seat and enclosed her in a tight hug. It felt so nice; strong, supportive arms that had held her since she was a baby. She felt, in those arms, that nothing could go wrong. She nestled closer as she realized that was the way she'd once felt in Tommy's arms too.

"I'll let you guys know as soon as I know anything more," Kwest said before rushing back into the delivery room.

When her dad finally released her from his tight embrace, they lowered themselves side by side into the plastic waiting room chairs. "How are you doing?" he asked, concern etched on his face. It was clearly not lost on her father how hard this would be for her.

"I'm okay. I'm not going to lie, it sucks being back here. But she needs me, I know that."

He squeezed her hand tightly on their shared armrest. "I'm proud of you for being here."

She turned her face away from him, staring at the bland landscape on the waiting room wall. "Don't be. Maybe I'm doing this one thing right, but it's about time. I've done so many horrible things. Mostly to the people I love most. I was selfish and I ran away, not even thinking about the consequences. And I'm about to do it all over again."

"What do you mean?" he asked. She felt his strong hand on her cheek, turning her face back to him.

"After my album is finished, and the divorce is taken care of, I'm leaving."

She could barely stand to watch as his face fell. He didn't even try to mask the heartbreak in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, I just…" she began, knowing she needed to offer some explanation to her father, whom she'd already abandoned once. "Everything is so fucked up and I feel powerless to change any of it. Being in LA, I didn't have to constantly think about what should have been. I mean, Chloe and Tommy were always in the back of my mind, but… here, it's like everywhere I go I'm reminded of the places where I would have taken my daughter. Like that park down the street from Tommy's house… I drove by it the other day and all I could think about was Chloe and that she should have been old enough now to start playing at the park with all the other little kids."

She wiped furiously at the tears that began to stream down her face. "And I'm not being fair to Tommy… he thinks we've got a shot, a real shot at being together. But I can't. Not after…" she trailed off, realizing her father didn't understand her reasoning for running the first time.

"What? What did he do?" her father asked angrily.

"Nothing," she lied. "I was going to say, after what happened to us, I just need closure. A fresh start."

This answer seemed to soothe her dad, who paused thoughtfully for a moment, the anger having dissipated as quickly as it had appeared. "You say you want a fresh start, but have you really said goodbye to your old life? You're my baby and I hate to see you struggling like this. The last thing I want to do is cause you more pain, but I'm not sure you've ever really confronted the past. Maybe that's why you find it so hard to live with."

She said nothing, only leaning her head against Stuart's shoulder for support as her mind ran over his words.

She didn't know what to say. It couldn't be true. She lived with the truth every day, didn't she? The pain was always there. But, she supposed the question remained, had she ever really dealt with it and all of its ramifications?

* * * * *

Six hours later, Jude stood quietly in the doorway, watching the domestic scene unfold in front of her. It had been a long couple of hours, but when the dust had settled everything had worked out just fine.

She'd spent the duration of her time waiting silently in the waiting room with her dad. He hadn't pressured her to talk more or to reconsider her decision to leave. He just sat with her, the strong, silent supportive man her father had always been.

As soon as they'd gotten the news from Kwest that the baby, Grace, had been born, he'd run off to phone a list of people. He was still outside on his cell phone, dutifully announcing to every person he knew that he had a new baby granddaughter.

Sadie's labor had been quite quick for a first birth and she was already recovering nicely. Just like it should be. Sadie was lying in the hospital bed, holding her new daughter while Kwest fussed worriedly over both of them.

And here she loitered in the doorway, unsure of her place in this scene. Uncertain of where she wanted to be. There was a part of her, a part that she hated and didn't want to acknowledge, that was angry at her sister. Angry that everything had gone so perfectly for her sister, while her own life had become so… wrong. Angry that, while she still mourned for her daughter, her sister had her perfect family at her fingertips.

Sadie glanced up at her then, smiling invitingly. Jude ventured forth slowly, stopping as she reached the end of the bed. This was as close as she could get.

She'd been unable to look at her new niece for more than seconds at a time, and even the proximity to the newborn was making her heart heavy. She didn't like feeling this way.

She loved her sister and this was a happy time for her. And Grace was her own flesh and blood. She shouldn't resent her existence or her sister's happiness. But part of her couldn't help it, no matter what her brain was telling her.

"Thanks for being here," Sadie said quietly, glancing down at her daughter. "I know… it can't be easy." Sadie shot her a sympathetic smile, and Jude felt, once again, the urge to flee the hospital. This was too much.

Instead, she smiled in response, unable to force herself to actually say anything. Kwest began talking to Sadie then, and she was glad for his, probably purposeful, distraction of her sister. Her eyes trailed down to the little girl in Sadie's arms, and she sucked in a breath as she noticed how much she looked like her sister.

Her bright eyes and her nose were almost exact replicas of Sadie's. But Grace's skin was faintly darker than Sadie's, showing that Kwest's presence in the child was not forgotten either. It was a beautiful mix of two individuals whom she loved dearly.

And she swore she heard the crack as her heart broke completely in two.

She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the heaviness that had begun to descend upon her. She couldn't be like this. She couldn't be so distraught when everyone, including her, had such a good reason to be overjoyed.

She inched closer to where her sister lay at the head of the bed. "Can I hold her?" The words spilled out before she had a chance to change her mind. She couldn't let her sister see how much this was killing her. She had to act like everything was normal. And a normal aunt would want to hold their baby niece.

The surprise was evident in Sadie's eyes when they met hers. "Sure," Sadie said as she lifted the small infant towards her. Jude leaned down, scooping the tiny baby into her arms naturally as she straightened her body.

Grace fit perfectly in her arms. It was like there was a hole there that could only be filled by this small life. Grace was so small and warm and… perfect. Beautiful.

But wrong, all at the same time. Because it wasn't Grace that was supposed to fill the void in her arms and her heart. The little girl who was supposed to do that was dead.

She blinked back the tears as she felt a whirlwind of emotions overpowering her.

There was love. Of that there was no doubt. This beautiful little girl was her niece, and she would always love her.

There was also pain. Raw, blinding pain that came with the realization that she might never hold a baby in her arms that belonged to _her_. Sure, she could have more children. Although the doctor had claimed it might be difficult to get pregnant again, it had never seemed out of the realm of possibilities. Physically, at least. Emotionally, she wasn't sure if her heart would ever be ready for that again. She could never replace her daughter, and she didn't know if she'd ever be able to try again for another child.

Among those two overpowering emotions there was also awe, anger, confusion and a rush of memories of her own pregnancy that she couldn't control. And all the while, she couldn't take her eyes off the precious baby in her arms.

* * * * *

Tommy stopped in his tracks the moment he walked through the doorway into the dim hospital room.

His heart skipped a beat as his brain processed the scene in front of his eyes.

Kwest had asked Stuart to call him to give him the news and he'd rushed over as soon as he could. For their sakes. As much as it would kill him to be here, he needed to do it for his friends.

But he'd never expected to see his wife holding the newborn baby. Not after everything they'd been through. She was much stronger than him; that much was for sure. He, for one, didn't think he could even go near the little girl.

The trek through the hospital had been bad enough. Every hallway and room seemed to hold one horrible memory after another.

Although he hadn't touched the stuff in months, his body began to crave the release that the vodka gave him from these heartbreaking memories.

He crept noiselessly closer to the bed, stopping as he reached Kwest's side. All eyes were transfixed on Jude, so they didn't even notice his arrival.

Kwest finally turned his head, acknowledging him with a silent nod. It was evident that no one wanted to speak; that would disrupt the moment and that was the last thing any of them wanted.

He locked his eyes on Jude, watching her as she stared at the tiny baby in her arms. She seemed almost paralyzed, and he wasn't sure if it was a good thing or not.

They'd had an emotional night, both spilling the conflicting emotions of their hearts out in song, and then this. A baby born to her sister that, inevitably, would only make them surmise about their own lost child.

He watched Jude's unbroken stare for countless minutes. The sight of her holding the baby was tearing his heart out. It was such a beautiful, perfect sight. Except it wasn't real. It wasn't their daughter. It was someone else's child, a child whom they only had a distant claim on.

When she lifted her head suddenly, his eyes searched for hers. One look and he'd know everything he needed to know about how she was coping.

He unconsciously sucked in a shallow breath when her eyes settled on his; the depth of the raw pain in her eyes was devastating. A single tear rolled down her cheek, and her lip quivered, a sign he recognized as meaning that there was a deluge of tears she was desperately holding back behind her eyes.

She was going to crack. In fact, he could see it already happening.

He watched as she wordlessly leaned down and placed Grace back in Sadie's waiting arms. She kissed her sister's cheek before whispering a hasty goodbye and walking quickly towards the door.

He squeezed Kwest's arm, and kissed Sadie's cheek, allowing his eyes to momentarily rest on Grace's face before he pulled away. "Congratulations, guys," he said before following his broken girl out the door.

* * * * *

She waited until she reached the hall before she broke into a run.

It was too much. Tommy seeing her holding the baby and the look in his eyes that told her he understood only too well exactly what she was feeling; she couldn't take it. The need to escape had become too powerful to ignore.

The pain was physically pulsing through her as her legs carried her away from the room, her heart racing faster and faster as she ran.

She finally reached the bank of elevators and repeatedly pressed the button to go down; she needed to get out of this hospital before she lost her sanity entirely.

The doors slid open slowly and she bolted through the opening, her finger roughly pushing the button for the main floor, willing the doors to close. Just as the doors began to slide closed, a hand reached through and pushed them open again. Her eyes widened as Tommy rushed inside the elevator, out of breath.

He moved to stand slightly behind her, and she pretended to ignore his presence as she hurriedly pushed the elevator button once again.

She breathed deeply, trying to hold in the tears that were desperate for release. But she'd been holding them back for too long already. Her whole body began to shake from the effort.

His strong hand caressed her shoulder, squeezing supportively. The tenderness of his action was the last straw. She couldn't hold the emotions back any longer.

The first sobs made no sound as they broke from her body; as their intensity increased, she could hear her loud crying reverberating off the walls of the elevator. She couldn't help it; finally given release, there was nothing she could do to stop the tears from falling now.

The firm hand on her shoulder began to turn her towards him; she resisted initially but she was too weak from crying to put up much of a genuine fight. Her body spun towards him slowly, and she felt him pull her tightly into his arms as soon as she was facing him.

She didn't bother resisting him anymore. She allowed her arms to go limp as he wound his arms tightly around her. For this one moment, the past didn't mean anything. His harmful words receded to the back of her consciousness as she took comfort from the one person in the world who completely understood her.

She needed his support in this moment more than she wanted to admit. And, as she felt his tears dripping onto her shoulder, she concluded that he needed this shared moment as much as she did.

* * * * *

She didn't remember much about what happened right after that. She saw flashes of the hospital lobby as he dragged her through it and into the cool air outside. She felt the warmth of his hands around her back as he led her to the Viper and settled her into the passenger seat. She protested that she'd brought the Mustang, but he wouldn't hear any part of her driving herself in this condition. Which she was, surprisingly enough, glad about.

As they rode in silence through the streets of Toronto, she couldn't regain any sense of composure. She was still jittery and upset and she really didn't want to be alone. But that didn't stop her from being surprised when he pulled up in front of his house instead of her apartment building and shut off the engine.

Offering no explanations, he walked around the car and opened her door, offering his hand to help her out. She took it, savouring the feel of his warm skin against hers for the brief moment that they touched.

After the day she'd had, the human contact, specifically his human contact, was her saving grace. So, even though she knew she should be angry at him for bringing her to his house without even asking, she didn't have the energy. And if she had to be alone right now, she wasn't sure what she'd do or what would happen to her.

He opened the front door, motioning for her to enter ahead of him. She obliged him, loitering just inside the doorway. She'd forgotten just how many memories this house held.

Memories of her rushing through the door, caressing her pregnant belly, just dying to share some small tidbit about the baby with him. Or memories of them planning the nursery together, picking out colors and furniture.

It was all so long ago, but the memories were only exacerbated by her time at the hospital. Even with the breeze entering through the door, she instantly felt like she was suffocating.

He closed the door behind him, tossing his keys on the table by the door before he turned to face her. "Are you okay?" he asked, concern filling his features again. She was never good at hiding anything from him and she was certain he could feel the anxiety rolling off of her.

The emotions she had hoped she'd left at the hospital were swirling around inside her again. And she just didn't have the energy to lie anymore.

"No, I'm not okay," she whispered honestly, leaning back against the wall behind her. "I don't think I've been 'okay' for a very long time."

Like a switch turning on inside of her, her breathing quickened as the anger and sadness rose suddenly within her, bringing her instantly close to hysterics. She pushed herself off the wall, beginning to pace the floor of the foyer.

"Everything is so fucked up. Nothing is how it's supposed to be! And I am the worst of it all. You know what I was thinking while I was holding Grace? Sure, part of me was thinking how amazing it was that my sister had this little girl. But there was a big part of me that was thinking how much I resented the tiny baby in my arms!"

She was beginning to yell, but she couldn't help it. She couldn't hold in the anger, the pain, the rage, the resentment, anymore. "How sick is that?! Resenting a baby?!?"

She looked up at him, seeing understanding mirrored in his eyes. And for some inexplicable reason, that only fueled her anger. "It's all wrong! All wrong!!!! I'm all wrong. I'm broken, and I don't think I can be fixed!"

"Don't say that!" he interrupted her, stepping into the path of her pacing, forcing her to look him in the eyes. The dark, angry look in his eyes halted whatever else she was going to say.

He lifted his hands to her arms, holding her firmly in place. "You're not all wrong and you're not broken!!" he stated firmly. "You don't need to be fixed. You've been through the worst kind of walk through hell and you're hurting and you're feeling like everything is wrong. But don't ever think that there's something wrong with you!"

His speech and his ire had drained all the rage and the energy out of her. All that was left was the sadness. Her weak limbs didn't have the fight in them to move out of his grasp.

"It should have been us with the newborn baby," she whispered softly, sadly.

She peered into his eyes, seeing the pain of the night and her words reflected in his. She felt his grasp loosen and she moved back, resting her tired body against the wall again. She took a deep breath, not bothering to wipe the fresh tears off her face.

"We were supposed to have it all. Why did this have to happen to us?" She lifted her hands to her face as fresh sobs overtook her, and her weak body slid down to the floor beneath her.

* * * * *

Through his tear stained vision, he watched as her body crumpled to the ground. She was breaking to pieces and it scared him. She'd never shown this grief to him before, even after Chloe had first died. He'd had the foolish notion that he was suffering alone; seeing her now and knowing her as he did, he wondered how ever could have thought that. Blinded by his own grief was his only pathetic excuse.

He walked slowly towards her, dropping to his knees on the cold marble floor. He reached for her hands, noticing how his own hands shook as he gently lifted hers away from her eyes. "It's okay, baby," he soothed, pulling her against his chest.

He rubbed his hands down her back, his fingers moving in soothing circles. They sat on the floor for a long while, clinging to one another and the understanding and comfort they found within each other.

When she finally pulled back, it was by only inches. She stared into his eyes, and he thought it looked like she was searching for something.

Her breath was hot on his face, as she gazed at him. The only sound to be heard in the house was their breathing.

It was like a spell had been cast upon them; he didn't dare move and risk breaking its magical hold.

Suddenly the atmosphere changed; the sadness, anger and hurt were instantly transformed into need. Raw, unquestioning need. For each other. For the chance to heal each others' pain.

He leaned forward slowly, almost so slowly that it barely seemed like he was moving at all. When his lips were a hairsbreadth away from hers, he paused, his eyes flashing to hers for confirmation. He needed to be sure that she felt the same need and want that he did.

Holding his breath, he waited until she nodded, almost imperceptibly. Not waiting for her to change her mind, he quickly closed the distance between them, pressing his lips down to hers.

He kissed her gently at first, wanting to take his time and savor the experience that he had been without for too long. But as he brushed his lips repeatedly, painstakingly across hers, the need between them suddenly exploded.

As his lips feverishly mated with hers, his hands moved across her body, caressing her shoulders and trailing down her arms. He felt her sudden intake of breath on his lips as his hands moved across her breasts and down her stomach.

He needed to feel her, all of her.

He stood up, dragging her up with him. He lifted her, cupping the back of her thighs as her legs wound around his waist. He pressed her back into the wall as he continued his assault on her mouth.

She began to touch him then, sliding her hands underneath his shirt, and he could feel his muscles contract in response as her hand gently caressed his stomach.

And with every touch of her skin on his, he felt a hidden wound inside his heart beginning to heal. It was her, and her healing presence in his life, that he'd needed all along.

Needing more, he headed towards the stairs, climbing them two at a time without breaking the contact of their lips or their bodies.

Kicking his bedroom door open, he strode over to the bed and collapsed them both onto it. Pulling back from her intoxicating lips, he noticed the glazed, passionate look in her eyes. He pulled her back to him immediately, as if not being able to bear a second without the contact of their bodies, and they furiously began removing each other's clothing.

There was no time for second guessing, not that he would have turned back any way. As soon as he had felt her naked skin upon his, he couldn't have turned back. As he glanced in her eyes, he read the same determination to have their bodies entwined in the most intimate way possible.

Every touch, every caress, it was so much more than the simple act of making love. For him it was the process of making whole something that had been broken and damaged for far too long.

As his body entered hers, and their bodies found their perfect rhythm as though they'd never been apart, it was the final act of absolute union and healing between them.

In that moment, he felt that nothing could every really be wrong again. Not as long as he had her to hold on to. Sure, there was the pain of everyday life; but what they had between them was so much stronger than that. How he'd ever let this go in the first place, he didn't know.

As their bodies cooled and he pulled the warm blanket over her sleeping, angelic form, he reflected that he knew one thing for sure. He wouldn't let her go again.


	22. Chapter Twenty One Part 1

Hi there! I'm SO sorry it's been so long. To apologize for the ridiculous wait, I'm giving you the first part of Chapter 21. I hope you won't have to wait too long for the rest. :)

---Steph

* * *

Chapter 21:

Forced awake by the light wafting through the window, her eyes fluttered open slowly. As she became more accustomed to the brightness of the room, she stared up at the ceiling that had once been so familiar.

And that's when the memories of the previous night flashed in her muddled mind.

What had she done?

She felt the warmth radiating from Tommy, his arm slung tightly across her naked waist under the cozy duvet. Even after years of not being together, their bodies hadn't forgotten their all too familiar sleeping patterns. Just like the other mornings they'd woken up in this bed, she woke up curled against him, her back pressed tightly to his chest as his arm held her securely in place.

Why did it have to feel so...right?

She knew the answer to that. At one time, what felt like a lifetime ago, it had been right. Being with him, it had been the only thing in her life that had really mattered.

As she lay nestled in his arms, she admitted to herself reluctantly that it still was.

All these weeks she'd been a fool. Letting herself get close to him again, allowing him to lower her defences enough that something like this could happen. It wasn't fair to either of them.

It didn't change anything. It didn't change what had happened. It didn't change what he'd said to her the night she left. It didn't change the pain that penetrated her heart when she thought about that night.

Suddenly feeling like she couldn't breathe, she carefully slid out from underneath his heavy arm and quickly collected her clothing. Reaching the hall, she dressed in a frenzy, before jogging down the stairs towards the kitchen. She pushed away the feeling of déjà vu as she was reminded of another time she'd rushed out on a sleeping Tommy.

She stopped in mid-stride as she realized she couldn't just leave this time. She knew he'd worry. And she didn't want to hurt him more than she already had. She had to at least leave him a note.

She hurriedly searched for a piece of paper, finding a notepad in the exact place she always kept one when this had been her house too. Grabbing a pen, she began scribbling out a short goodbye note when she suddenly felt warm hands squeezing her shoulders.

"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice raspy and sleep-filled. She stood frozen, the warmth from his hands burning through the fabric of her shirt. Without even turning her head, she sensed his eyes scanning the note she'd been writing. Although unfinished, he'd no doubt get the gist of her intentions.

His hands tightened slightly on her shoulders as he spun her around to face him.

She was confronted with the tantalizing sight of his bare chest, his body clad only in his black boxers. As her eyes finally made their way up to his face, she saw that his face was noticeably sad, but also puzzled. "Jude, what's going on? I thought this... I thought what happened... I thought it changed things. I thought it was a step forward. Why are you still running?"

She felt so many emotions bubbling to the surface. What had really changed? If she was honest with herself, absolutely nothing had changed. She still swooned at his touch. Her heart still ached when she thought of him. And she still couldn't stop the words he'd said from replaying over and over again in her head.

Absolutely nothing had changed. That's why this had been such a bad idea. Holding Sadie's baby, allowing her mind to think about what should have been, what she and Tommy should have had, it had clouded her judgment. It had let her cling to him for one night. But today was a new day, and what had happened couldn't be repeated.

She pulled her sweater closer around her body for comfort as she faced him. His face was so pained, and it was growing more so as she remained silent. She finally spoke, her voice soft, almost inaudible. "Nothing's changed. I'm sorry if you thought that's what last night meant. For me it was..." she paused, searching for the right word, "it was closure." She met his eyes, seeing the shock reverberate through him.

As well as shock, his eyes held anger. "Jude, I don't understand! After last night, how can you still deny what you feel? What we both feel?"

She turned away from him. "You and I, we're in the past. We have to be. More than ever I know that now." Her voice was quivering, and she prayed that she could keep her strength until she could escape his unwavering gaze. Even thought she wasn't looking at him, she felt the warmth of his stare. She felt like he was looking straight into her soul, and it unnerved her.

She didn't hear his approach, but suddenly he was there, right behind her, his hands on her upper arms. "Why? I need to know why."

"Because no matter what I do, I can't forget." She closed her eyes as his words from over two years before echoed in her mind. She felt tears beginning to form behind her eyes, and she blinked furiously to rid herself of them.

Slowly, he turned her body to face his. Misinterpreting her words, he said, "Jude, we'll never forget Chloe. And we shouldn't. But she wouldn't want us to stop living. You have to know that." His voice was calm, the anger dissipating as he spoke his daughter's name.

"I never want to forget her. Ever," she corrected him, shrugging off his hands and moving back to lean against the kitchen counter.

"Then what? What do you want to forget? Jude, since you came back you've been shutting me out and I can't stand it. There's something going on with you, I know it. Something you're not telling me. You forget that I know you better than anyone. You need to talk to me. We can work through this."

The determination in his eyes broke her heart even further. He didn't know, couldn't understand why the words he spoke were simply not true. Shaking her head, she couldn't think of anything to say, anything that would possibly convince him that they both needed to move on from each other. Except for the crushing truth.

Feeling the desperate need to flee, she strode quickly towards the back door, only a few steps away when he stopped her, a strong restraining hand on her arm. "You're not leaving, you're not running away. You're going to stay and we're going to sort things out, once and for all," he yelled loudly, his frustration and anger clearly getting the best of him.

She could feel her own anger rising in tandem. "I can't do that! We can't just work things out! It's not that simple!!"

"What's so bad that we can't fix it? We've had a few completely awful years. When Chloe died, we gave up on each other, we gave up on life, but I don't want to do that anymore. I want to stand here, take your hand and fight. Fight for you, for our marriage. For the life we can still have together. The life we were meant to have." The certainty in his voice almost made her believe that it was possible. Almost.

"We can't have that. It's not going to happen," she said loudly, trying to regain her composure.

"Why not?" he demanded, his pressure on her arm only increasing.

"Because I can't forget what you said!" she yelled, before slapping her hand over mouth. She'd been so frustrated, so angry, she hadn't even realized what she'd said until it was too late. As his words of blame continued to echo painfully in her ears, she felt an intense deluge of tears pricking behind her eyes.

His face contorted in a look of complete confusion. "What do you mean? What did I say?"

She tried turning away but found herself still stuck in place by his strong grasp. "Nothing, it's nothing."

"It's not nothing. Not if you can't forget it." As she tried to look away from his intense stare, he brought his free hand to her chin, lifting her face to look into his. "Tell me," he prodded softly, gently.

And that's when the dam holding back her tears broke. The way his glistening blue eyes probed into hers, telling her without words that he needed to know the truth. She realized the mistake she'd been making all along. It wasn't fair to keep him in the dark, especially when she was holding it against him.

She sobbed quietly, feeling his hands rubbing her back in a soothing motion. Finally, after giving herself a minute, she lifted her eyes to his. And she said the one thing she hadn't intended ever to tell him. "The night I left, you said some things. Things I... can't forget."

She noticed him stiffen perceptibly and his hand froze on her back. "What did I say?" he asked, and she heard the slight quiver in his voice.

She rubbed furiously at the tears on her face before continuing. She immediately began rethinking her sudden impulse to tell him the truth. But as she looked up into his eyes again, she realized she didn't have a choice. It wasn't fair to keep it from him any longer. "You said that... you said it was my fault," she said, stumbling over her words.

He stiffened further, and moved away from her completely. He began pacing the length of the kitchen before he stopped suddenly. "What exactly did I say was your fault?" he asked. But she knew by the horrified look in his eyes that he knew exactly what she was talking about.

She paused, her body shaking at the prospect of restating the painful words he'd uttered. "You said that Chloe's death was my fault... That I worked too hard... That she would have been alive if it hadn't been for me..." she finally spit out, her cracking voice betraying the brokenness inside.

Her heart dropped as she watched the blood drain instantly from his face. He leaned on the counter top, seemingly for support. She approached him, and as she took in his pale complexion, she wondered suddenly if he was going to be sick.

She lifted her hand to his shoulder but he recoiled from her touch. "Don't..." he warned, his face full of anguish. She watched as many different emotions passed across his face, but it was the one that settled itself in him, the one she saw clearly reflected in his eyes that scared her the most.

It was pure, unadulterated self-loathing.


	23. Chapter Twenty One Part 2

Sorry for the long wait! Thanks so much for reading/reviewing. Love you all!

* * *

Chapter 21, Part 2

"Tommy..." she began, unsure of what else to say. She didn't like the look in his eyes. Or how that look made her want to wrap her arms around him to stop the pain and loathing from enveloping him completely.

He pushed himself suddenly away from the counter and bounded towards the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. The awful sound of his retching filled the silence his departure left behind.

She couldn't move; she couldn't even process what had just happened. Had she really told him? She felt relief at finally expressing the words that had been controlling her life. Simultaneously, however, regret washed over her as she began to see the toll her revelation was taking on him. She hadn't intended to cause him pain. She never wanted to do that. Or did she? If she really looked at her motivation for telling him, did a part of her want to cause him some measure of pain to atone for the pain she'd suffered?

Not wanting to believe that part of her could be that vengeful, she pushed the thought out of her mind. She cared about Tommy. He had always been such an integral part of her life. She had told him the truth about that night, not to cause pain but to help him understand why she had to move on. Why both of them had to move on. That was the reason she'd told him. Nothing more. But there was still a part of her that wondered if there wasn't a more sinister motivation buried somewhere. She rubbed her temple to ease the pain of all the conflicting thoughts whirling around her brain.

She heard the door creak open and she spun around to see Tommy emerge, staggering like an intoxicated man. He wouldn't look at her as he passed her and headed up the stairs.

She followed him tentatively, watching his unsteady movements, wondering what she could possibly say to ease his obvious suffering.

He picked up the shirt he'd discarded last night, stuffing his shaking hands through the armholes as he slipped it over his head. He continued moving around the room, collecting his clothing, as if he didn't know that she was there.

When he finished dressing, he looked up, his eyes finally meeting hers. She gasped as she saw the brokenness reflected back in his eyes. She'd done this to him. How was she ever going to live with herself?

She stepped forward tentatively, another attempt at bridging the space between them. He flinched, stepping backwards to avoid her touch.

He was rejecting her. In his darkest moments, he couldn't stand to let her touch him. Then again, isn't this exactly what she'd done to him? She could feel the hot tears sliding down her cheeks as this revelation overpowered her.

She backed up until she felt the bed behind her calves. She forced herself to sit down before her shaking legs collapsed underneath her.

What came next? Honestly, she had no idea. Now that she had told him, what had really been gained?

She shut her eyelids, trying to ward off the further deluge of tears that threatened to fall. She couldn't help it, however, as the moisture welled and flowed down her cheeks in rivulets.

Sensing his presence in front of her, she opened her eyes slowly. He stood solemnly, only a few short feet in front of her, the sorrow filling his eyes. With heartbreaking tenderness he reached one hand forward and lightly brushed the tears off her cheeks. Their eyes were locked, his piercing hers with grief and sorrow, but also something more. Something that reminded her of both the joy and sadness they'd experienced together. It was a look that resonated with closure, with a sorrowful taste of goodbye.

He pulled his hand back, and she closed her eyes, hoping that when she opened them this whole mess would be a nightmare. That she'd open her eyes and she would be transported back to a time when she and Tommy were happy, when Chloe was still growing in her stomach. The time before their world fell apart.

Letting herself hold on to that dream for longer than she should have, she kept her eyes closed.

Minutes later when she opened them, she saw nothing.

Tommy was gone. And the white memory box was still on the ground, a reminder of all the things that they would never get to experience with Chloe.

The tears clouded her vision as she absorbed the aftermath of what had happened.

The large house felt claustrophobic in the wake of the fresh pain running through her veins. Running down the stairs, her eyes locked on the folded note propped up on the table by the front door. Her name was scrawled on the front of it in Tommy's very familiar writing.

She opened it, anxious to read the note and then call Jamie or Speiderman to come and pick her up. She just wanted to get out of there, away from the pain she felt, but more importantly the pain she'd seen in Tommy's eyes. Whether she wanted to admit it, she needed to escape the guilt that came with the part she'd played in causing that agony.

The note, which he couldn't have written more than a few minutes ago, was messy and to the point.

_Here are the keys to the Viper. Take them. The car is yours._

Glancing down at the table, she saw the keys he'd written about. She picked them up, unsure of what to do with them. She loved the car. But she loved it because it was his and he always accompanied it. Without him, the car was just a thing, a hollow and meaningless object. The memories of the joy they'd shared in that car would haunt her forever, even if she never saw it again. But driving it? That was out of the question. Besides, what was he doing giving her his car? He loved that car.

She wondered suddenly if maybe he couldn't deal with the memories any more than she could. Maybe he was giving her was he thought she wanted. Maybe it was his way of letting her, and them, go. Her head spun with the possible ramifications of his gift. And before she could control it, the keys slipped from her fingers as another bout of sobs overtook her.

* * * * *

He wasn't even sure how he found himself perched on a stool at one of Toronto's roughest bars. It was one of his familiar haunts during the rougher parts of the past couple of year; it was also one of the only bars he knew that was open at 10:00 in the morning. That spoke volumes about the kind of clientele the owners catered to. He honestly didn't remember even driving himself to the bar. He figured his mind must have gotten him there on autopilot, realizing that his present state of mind matched the way he'd felt in the past when he'd found his safe haven here.

"It's been a long time." The gruff voice of the man besides him broke through his thoughts.

"Excuse me?" he said, barely giving the man a cursory glance.

"I said it's been a long time. You know, since I last saw you here."

He looked towards the man, examining him more closely. He vaguely remembered seeing him before, probably on one of the many occasions he'd been at the bar to get drunk.

"It's been a long time since I've needed to come here," he said to the man, hoping that would be the end to their conversation.

"I wish I could say the same," the man said, taking a large gulp of the drink in front of him. "It's been a long time since I've had any reason not to come here and lose myself in a bottle. I'm Aidan, by the way," he said, offering his hand for a handshake in a very formal manner, as if the bar was a classy establishment and not the dump they both knew it was.

Not wanting to appear rude, he shook Aidan's hand. "I'm Tommy."

"Nice to officially meet you, Tommy." As he smiled, Tommy noticed objectively that the man, now approaching his elder years, must have once been quite good looking. "You know, sometimes I wonder how it came to this. How I came to the point in my life where this is all I have to look forward to. I used to have it all. A beautiful wife. Two amazing kids who worshiped the ground I walked on. And then it was gone. Just like that," he said, snapping his fingers to accentuate how fast he'd lost it all.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Tommy mumbled as he looked away, hoping that Aidan would get the hint that he didn't want to talk.

But Aidan continued his story, either unaware or wilfully ignoring Tommy's disinterest. "I remember the day it happened. It was a Sunday and it was raining, storming like it only storms once in a blue moon. She insisted on taking the kids out to get something they needed for school. They never even made it to the store. A tractor trailer lost control and hit them straight on. One minute they were there, the next I was making funeral arrangements for my whole family."

Tommy didn't even realize he was crying until he saw a tear drop into his glass. "I'm very sorry," he said softly, genuinely.

The man beside him grew silent, apparently lost in his own sorrow. Tommy couldn't stop thinking about the man's story. Tommy knew the pain of loss, especially the loss of a child. But if something ever happened to Jude too? He would lose his mind.

After listening to Aidan's story, he had the strongest impulse to run and find her, just to touch her, to make sure she was safe.

But as the recent revelations flooded him, he checked the impulse. He couldn't do it. He'd screwed up her life enough for an eternity.

* * * * *

He banged on the all too familiar door, determined to see a friendly face. He'd settle for an angry face, as long as it was someone he knew. Someone he could talk to.

The door opened, and Kwest's tired face greeted him with surprise. "You okay, man?"

"Honestly, no," he said, rubbing his hand across his face in frustration and exhaustion.

Kwest motioned for him to come in, leading him towards the living room. "What's going on?" he asked as they sat down facing each other.

"I really fucked up, man. She's never going to want to see me again. And I don't blame her one bit." He stood up and began pacing. He felt Kwest's widened eyes following his movements, even though his friend didn't say anything.

"I was at the bar today, and I sat there for hours just trying to figure out what I'm going to do."

Kwest shot up from the couch, looking at him angrily. "What do you mean you were at the bar? How much have you had to drink? I thought you weren't going to resort to that again. You've been doing so well this last while--"

"I only had two drinks!" Tommy cut off Kwest's rant. "I went there on instinct. I didn't go to get drunk. Or if I did, I had enough sense to stop before that happened. I went there because I needed to think about what I've done. What I did to her." His dark eyes met Kwest's, reflecting the heaviness of his emotions. "Kwest, I think I broke her. I really did it this time."

Settling his emotions, Kwest retook his seat on the couch. "Tommy, what happened last night? What are you talking about?"

Feeling his body drain of all its energy, he collapsed into an armchair. "It wasn't last night. Two years ago, on the night that Jude left, I told her it was her fault. I told her I blamed her for Chloe's death."

The two men stared at each other, neither one sure of what to say. Of what could be said. Tommy could see his friend wanted to reassure him. But how could he do that after what he'd just learned?

Finally Kwest broke the silence. "We both know you didn't mean it," he said quietly.

"Do we? I know that now. I know how completely ludicrous it is to blame her. But I was messed up then. What if, in some fucked up way, I did think that it was her fault? Seriously, who thinks that? Who says that, even if they don't mean it? What kind of a monster am I?" He wasn't sure he wanted an answer to any of these questions. He was afraid of the truth he'd find.

"You're not a monster," Kwest assured him. "You're a grieving parent. You lost Chloe too. Don't forget that Jude wasn't the only one to lose her."

Ignoring Kwest's attempt to comfort him, he continued to reflect on the damage he'd done. "I managed to blow up my life, as I always do. I should have known that the perfect life, the perfect wife and daughter – all of that was never meant for me."

"Tommy – you need to give yourself a break. Was it an okay thing to say? No. But you need to stop thinking like this. You can't go back, you can't take those words back. But you can move forward. Living like this, with these thoughts, it's not going to do any good."

Tommy's thoughts turned towards the only thing that might do some good. "You're right, Kwest. I can't go back. But I have to make it right, the only way I know how." And without another word, he turned on his heel and rushed out the door.

* * * * *

Jude stood at her apartment window, looking down on the parking lot, on the Viper that did not belong there. It wasn't her car. The car was Tommy's; it was more than that – it **was** Tommy.

That car sitting in that parking lot was one of the many things that were not right. She'd spent all day alone, crying or thinking or sitting numbly trying to avoid doing both of those. She was emotionally shattered and she didn't even know how she felt or what she thought anymore.

She heard the apartment door creak as it opened, announcing to her that Speiderman was home.

"Hey rock star, what's happening?" he asked casually as he dropped his guitar case inside the door.

She opened her mouth to attempt to answer his question with the same level of casualness, but she couldn't do it. No words would escape her lips. And if they did, she was afraid they would be accompanied with tears.

Getting no answer, Speiderman walked closer and examined her face. "What's wrong?" he asked worriedly.

"He knows. I told him everything," she whispered, wiping the latest bout of tears from her face.

Speiderman slid down on the seat next to her, wrapping his arms around her. "Dude, it's going to be okay," he said gently, rubbing her back soothingly.

"It was a disaster. I saw Sadie's little girl and it was like I lost Chloe all over again. And what did I do? That's right I followed one train wreck with another, that's what I did. I slept with Tommy. And then I told what he said that night. I couldn't hold it in anymore. He was crushed, Speid. He was broken, and I did that to him."

After he comforted her for countless minutes, he turned towards her. "Dude, I don't want to sound insensitive, but don't you think that, in a way, this is a good thing?"

She looked up, appalled at the sentiment. "What do you mean?" she asked, the disgust in her voice apparent.

"Woah, before you throw me out the open window, just hear me out!" Speid exclaimed lightly, holding up his hands in mock defence. She knew he was just trying to lighten the mood, but she wasn't in a mood that could be lightened at the moment.

"Look, I know you feel bad that he's upset by what you told him – but isn't having everything out in the open what you really wanted? Doesn't this give you both the chance to really heal and move on now? There's nothing holding you back now."

She relaxed against his shoulder, taking in the ramifications of what he said. He was right; the truth was supposed to finally give her the liberation she'd desired.

"You're right," she whispered softly. "I'm free."

But why didn't she feel free?

* * * * *

She'd fallen into a fitful sleep on the couch beside Speiderman. He'd stayed with her, coaxing her back off to sleep every time she woke up panicked or crying. And that was quite often.

Speid had, with no subtleness whatsoever, suggested that she take the day off. She had refused, stating that work was the only thing that had a chance of distracting her.

Hours later she found herself behind the soundboard, forcing herself to focus on SME's latest song. She was too emotional to try singing or writing for herself today. Luckily, Speid and the boys were more than happy to record.

She'd seen Tommy only once as he'd waved awkwardly at her on his way to his studio. He looked sad, the sombre look in his eyes detectable even from a distance. She sensed that he was closed off, that he was emotionally and mentally even farther away than the physical distance between them.

But that's what she wanted, right? She reminded herself of this, even though it was less convincing every time she told herself this was what she wanted.

She knew she needed to talk to him – but she wasn't ready for that quite yet. She had no idea what she was going to say.

SME's new song broke through her thoughts as she heard something that needed to be altered. She signalled for them to stop playing and she entered the booth. Leaning against the glass door behind her, she began to explain to them what the problem was.

"I think that key is a bit high for you, Speid. Try it like this," she said, demonstrating the key she thought was more appropriate for his voice. She noticed Kyle's eyes drawn towards a movement behind the soundboard. She turned her head and noticed Tommy, watching her solemnly. Turning back, she continued to give directions about the other changes she wanted them to make, although her mind wasn't on what she was saying. Her mind was on the confrontation she was about to have with her estranged husband on the other side of the glass. Her heart was racing faster as the moment approached when she would have to face him. Her time was up and she still had no idea what to say to him.

But when she turned around, she stopped in her tracks. He wasn't there.

"We'll record when I count down from five," she called behind her as she walked back through the glass door.

She sat down, intending on putting Tommy's mysterious visit behind her when she noticed an envelope on the soundboard.

With shaking hands and a sense of trepidation, she picked up the envelope and opened it slowly.

As she removed the papers from the envelope, the note on top fluttered down onto the soundboard. She scanned it quickly, noticing that there were only two words scrawled on the paper – "I'm sorry."

Glancing down towards the papers still in her hand, she couldn't help but stare as she read the words at the top.

Decree of Divorce.

Her hands were shaking so badly that she could barely hold the stack of papers. Skimming the paper quickly, there was one thing that stood out. It was Tommy's large, bold signature.

He'd signed the divorce papers. He'd given her exactly what she wanted. So why, in that moment of victory, did she feel so empty?


	24. Chapter Twenty Two

Hi there!Finally, I have the new chapter for you! I hope you guys enjoy. I'd love to hear what you think!

Thanks so much to InstantStar_Fan for being such an awesome person and reading this over for me!

Disclaimer: Songs featured are Kelly Clarkson's "Cry" and Daughtry's "Long Way" and do not belong to me.

Thanks for reading!

* * *

Chapter 22

It had been a long, tense week since Tommy had left the divorce papers for her. She'd been living in a fog, unsure what to do or even what to think. As soon as she'd gotten back to the apartment that night, she'd shoved the divorce papers in a drawer and she hadn't looked at them since. She felt the bile rise in her throat whenever she thought about filing them or even looking at them.

She was beginning to question her mental health. After all, this is exactly what she'd wanted, right? She felt like she was in the middle of a war – with herself. Why couldn't she just file the papers? Then it would be over for good. Then maybe, just maybe, she'd have a little peace.

"Earth to Jude! Are you okay in there?" Speid asked from behind the soundboard, forcing her thoughts back to the present. It took a moment for her to reorient herself, and remind herself that she had work to do.

The night after Tommy had given her the divorce papers, she'd cracked. She couldn't even remember how many hours she'd sobbed, destroying Speiderman's shirt with the pure volume of tears that she'd shed on it. At the same time as the pain, she'd felt a cathartic need to finally express in song how much pain she was in. She'd finally written a song about her and Tommy's split, one of the first truly emotional songs she'd written in a long time. Now she was standing behind the microphone trying to work up the courage to actually sing it. She had asked for Speid's help to produce, knowing this is one song she definitely couldn't handle on her own.

Strumming idly on her guitar, she forced her attention to the task at hand. Even though her heart was aching, she had to be strong. She had to do this. She called back into Speid, "I'm fine. Let's do it."

Taking a deep breath, she began to play the intro on her guitar. Closing her eyes, she forced the first few painful phrases to escape her lips.

_If anyone asks I'll tell them we both just moved on_

_When people all stare I'll pretend I don't hear them talk_

_Whenever I see you I'll swallow my pride and bite my tongue_

_Pretend I'm okay with it all, act like there's nothing wrong_

But she wasn't okay. And she couldn't pretend that she was. At least not yet. Maybe the fake smile and the pretend happiness would come. For now, however, the pain was too raw to hide behind any façade.

_Is it over yet?_

_Can I open my eyes?_

_Is this as hard as it gets?_

_Is this what it feels like to really cry?_

Honestly, she was beginning to wonder whether it would ever be truly over. She'd badgered Tommy for a divorce because she'd just wanted to move on. But even though he'd granted her wish, she couldn't staunch the bleeding of her pain. She felt like she was hemorrhaging her sorrow for everyone to see. When was she going to figure out what it was she really wanted or needed?

_If anyone asks, I'll tell them we just grew apart_

_What do I care if they believe me or not?_

_Whenever I feel your memory is breaking my heart_

_I'll pretend I'm okay with it all and act like there's nothing wrong_

As she sang the last few phrases, her already shaky voice began to crack and she couldn't continue. No matter what she seemed to decide to do where Tommy was concerned, her heart wouldn't stop breaking into a million pieces. She didn't know when or if she'd ever truly be "okay" again. That was a scary and sobering thought.

She covered her face with her hands, trying to block the onslaught of tears. She was tired of crying, tired of the turmoil she wasn't able to escape.

She felt Speid's comforting arms wrap around her, and he whispered, "It'll be okay. You know that, right?"

As she wiped the silent tears off her cheeks, she nestled further into his shoulder for support. "I wish I could say that I did. But, honestly, I'm just not sure if anything will be okay again."

* * * * *

After struggling all day to record the rest of the song, she'd sent an exhausted Speiderman home to get some rest. She knew sleep would, however, evade her so she decided to stay and continue to work on the song. But she couldn't focus on it.

She couldn't concentrate on anything but Tommy, which was ridiculous considering they'd barely spoken since he had signed the divorce papers.

In fact, except for the courtesies exchanged upon passing at the studio, they hadn't spoken at all. Well, she reminded herself, that's what it was supposed to be like, right? They were on their way to being divorced. As far as Tommy knew, they already were divorced. Divorced couples didn't normally remain the best of friends… or even friends at all. Her heart ached when she thought the possibility of losing contact with Tommy. He had been an integral part of her life for so long, it seemed impossible to her that there would be a day that they would be strangers to one another.

She had buried herself in work this last week, hoping that it would help her process everything and move on. But it hadn't helped. In fact, she was so distracted that her progress on her CD had stalled completely. Tommy, however, had apparently been quite focused. Whenever she saw him he was headed to his studio. Never, however, did he look happy. She missed the familiar, loving look that seemed to have vanished from his eyes. When their eyes did meet, his reflected a look that was… hollow. Unfamiliar. Dead.

It was awful. She wanted to reach out to him. To say something. To do something. But she knew she had no right. Not anymore. She'd done enough for Tommy, caused enough pain for him.

She kept telling herself that she'd talk to him, try to regain the foothold of friendship that they had started to rebuild when she came back to Toronto. But the one time, two days ago, when she'd worked up the courage to talk to him, she'd gone out to the lobby to find him deep in conversation with Janine, another artist that worked at G-Major. After watching them from a distance for a while, she'd been struck with a realization that caused her to rush to the bathroom before she gave into the impulse to hyperventilate. She had grasped the counter as her vision blurred and she attempted to maintain her balance.

It wasn't that she had suspected anything romantic between the two. What troubled her was the uncomplicated discussion, the way he had smiled easily at Janine, without worries or heartache. Jude didn't see that simplicity when he interacted with her anymore. It was at that moment that she began to see that, despite how he had fought against their divorce, Tommy might genuinely be better off without her. She had verbalized for months that they both needed to move on, but to see proof of the uncomplicated life he could lead without her, proof that complete separation from her might be the best thing – it was suddenly devastating. She certainly understood the true meaning of the phrase 'be careful what you wish for.'

Taking deep breaths to calm herself, she had managed to make it back to her studio without having to face him. She hadn't tried to broach a discussion with him since.

As her thought returned to the present once again, her felt her heavy eyes closing and she knew she really wasn't accomplishing anything with her song. Not sleeping much at all this week had crept up on her suddenly. An abrupt wave of tiredness overcame her and she managed to make it to the couch before giving in to sleep's rapturous call.

* * * * *

Tommy turned the studio lights off, a sense of nostalgia washing over him at the thought that he might not see this studio again. He felt a wave of exhaustion overwhelming him, but he pushed it off the best he could. He had a lot he still had to do tonight.

He was proud of the work he'd done on his album. His record was finished. Well, his part anyway. There was some final mixing to be done, but he was going to leave that to Kwest, the musical mixing genius.

He yawned widely as he began to amble towards the back exit of G-Major. The light in Studio B caught his attention and he stopped in his tracks, turning instead to walk towards the light. He creeped slowly towards the glass door, not wanting to frighten Jude if she was still recording. But as he peered in, he didn't see anyone. He opened the door, reaching towards the switch to turn off the lights, when he noticed her slumbering form on the couch.

She still took his breath away. He had a feeling she always would. God, how he missed her. He missed their intimacy and the way she knew him above all others.

He approached her slowly, not wanting to disrupt her rest. She looked exhausted, and he had to push away his worry for her health. She wasn't his responsibility anymore. She couldn't be.

Crouching down beside her, he felt the words spilling out of him, words he'd been unable to say to her while she was awake. "God, I love you. I know I shouldn't but I can't help it. And I'm so sorry. For the things I've done and said, and the things I didn't do and didn't say." He watched her chest rise and fall with her deep, peaceful breathing. It brought him an inordinate amount of peace to watch her sleeping so restfully.

All he wanted was for her to be okay. He'd given her what she needed to move on and hopefully she would be able to do just that. But he couldn't move on her, with her so close yet out of his reach. As he envisioned the plane ticket that rested in his bag, he knew he'd made the right decision to leave. He'd already said his goodbyes to Kwest and Sadie, and Darius was aware of where he was headed. He couldn't say goodbye to Jude. He hadn't planned to say anything to her, knowing that he wouldn't be able to handle it. Despite what some might think, it wasn't payback for the way she'd left him. It was just the way things needed to be. They were still married then. Things had changed; they were finished for good now.

Despite his plan not to say goodbye to her, he was grateful for this chance to talk to her, even if she wouldn't remember it. "I'm sorry I didn't listen to you. I'm sorry I didn't pay attention to your pain. If I had, I wouldn't have put you through the last few months. I would have let you go a long time ago." His voice began to crack, and he had to stop in order to gather his strength to finish what he needed to say. "Even though I didn't want to, and I still don't, I would have let you go if I'd known it was what you really needed. Now I can see that it is. I'm sorry that I couldn't be the man, the husband that you needed. I let you down in so many ways, the least of which were the words I said to you the night you left. I hope one day you can come close to forgiving me for the pain I've caused you."

He leaned down, gently brushing a stray hair off her face. He moved his hand down to caress her face lightly, knowing he was pushing his luck. But he couldn't help it. If this was the last time he saw her, he couldn't deny himself this last opportunity to feel her skin on his. He wasn't that strong.

She began to move, and he feared that he'd woken her. Luckily for him, she didn't rouse. While staying asleep, she instinctively leaned her face into his touch, as if she recognized who it was.

He leaned his face down, placing a soft kiss on her temple. "Goodbye Jude. I hope your life is everything you could wish it to be. You deserve nothing less," he whispered before forcing himself to stand.

Reaching into his bag, he grasped an envelope that he'd addressed to her and placed it on the soundboard. He'd planned to give it to Darius or Kwest to deliver to her, but he might as well leave it here, knowing she would find it just the same.

Only stopping once to look back, attempting to memorize her every feature, he continued towards the door and walked out of G-Major without turning back.

It was done.

* * * * *

Her lids fluttered open, confronted immediately with the bright overhead lights. Giving herself time to adjust to the surroundings, he realized that she must have fallen asleep at the studio.

Forcing herself into a sitting position, she allowed herself time to wake up. She'd had the weirdest dreams last night. Including one where Tommy had told her goodbye among a lot of other things.

When her eyes fully adjusted, she noticed an envelope leaning on the soundboard. She stood up, immediately reaching for it.

Ripping it open, she scanned the letter quickly.

_Dear Jude,_

_This house was only ever home because I shared it with you. I hope the house, and whatever future you pursue, brings you some measure of peace._

_Yours always,_

_Tommy_

Below his note, she noticed the keys to his house taped to the paper.

He'd given her his house. Their house. She didn't even know what to think.

As she reflected on her 'dream' about Tommy, she began to wonder if at least part of it was actually real.

Had he actually left town that quickly? A flash of panic hit her, sending her out into the corridor on a mission to find Kwest. He'd know what the hell was going on.

She burst into Studio A, noticing Kwest behind the soundboard focusing intently on whatever he was hearing through his headphones. Noticing her barge in, he pushed the headphones down to rest around his neck.

"Hey Jude," he said, and his sombre tone indicated to her that her suspicions about Tommy were right.

"He's gone, isn't he?" she asked abruptly.

Kwest looked down before meeting her gaze. He nodded sadly, saying, "His CD is done. Darius wanted him to tour around a bit and do some promo for it." She released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Maybe he was coming back, then. Not that it should've been important to her. But for some inexplicable reason, it was.

"But Jude," Kwest continued, "he's not coming back."

As best as she could, she hid the shock and dismay from Kwest. She knew she probably wasn't doing a good job, but Kwest was kind enough not to point that out.

Swallowing back tears, she sat down in the chair beside Kwest. "His album, you said he's finished?"

"Yes, he is."

"What's it like?" She couldn't help asking. It had been a dream of Tommy's and now it was finally realized. She felt an immense amount of pride in what he'd accomplished and she hadn't even heard it yet.

Kwest popped a disc out of the machine and held it out for her. "Why don't you listen for yourself?"

As the excitement bubbled up inside her, she began to reach for it. Then she pulled her hand back as she remembered that she had no right to it. "I don't think so Kwest. He signed the divorce papers. I have no claim on him or anything of his anymore."

Kwest shot her an exasperated look. "You can't really believe that, can you? Regardless of your relationship status, you two will always have some kind of magnetism towards each other. A piece of paper doesn't destroy that kind of connection."

He held the CD out determinedly. "Take it. I know he'd want you to listen to it."

With a degree of uncertainly filling her, she took the CD. "Thanks Kwest. For everything. You're a really good guy. And the best brother-in-law I could ask for." She stood up, turning towards the door. "By the way," she said, turning back, "how's that beautiful niece of mine?"

Kwest's face filled with pride and awe. "She's perfect."

"Glad to hear it," she said softly, swallowing back another bout of tears before she turned and fled.

* * * * *

She stood at the front door of the house that held so many memories of her and Tommy, unable to actually go inside. She held the key in her shaking hand, trying to decide what to do. This was his house. It had been his house for two years after it had been their house. Why would he just give it to her? She was honestly afraid of the answer to that question.

Finally forcing herself to unlock the door, she walked slowly into the place that had felt like home to her while she was with Tommy. As she wandered through the main floor, she realized that nothing had really changed. Some of the pictures were gone, but the furniture was the same. It felt like he still lived here. Like he should be coming home at any moment.

She wasn't even sure what she was doing at the house. When she'd initially seen the keys taped to the letter, she'd decided to avoid the house altogether. It held so many wonderful and equally painful memories that she wasn't sure she could face it again. Especially after the most recent night she and Tommy had spent together. But after Kwest had handed her Tommy's new CD, for some reason she'd needed to come here. Maybe she needed to come here to say goodbye, once and for all. She wasn't sure, just like she wasn't sure the impulse that led her to that familiar front door was a good one.

She moved upstairs, knowing his bedroom would be the hardest room to confront. As she stepped through the doorway, she felt instinctively that something was not right. She instantly realized how changed the room was. Any trace of Tommy was gone. His clothes, his CDs, his unique personal belongings. They were all gone.

And that was the moment she realized that, after fighting him for months, she'd truly gotten what she said she wanted.

It was also the moment she realized that she was truly, truly alone.

A wave of nausea washed over her at the sudden loss she felt. Feeling suddenly weak and weightless, she slid down to sit on the floor, leaning her back against the bed.

She was alone. And she had no one to blame but herself.

After sitting motionless for countless minutes, the silence began to close in around her. Remembering that she had Tommy's CD in her bag, she rifled it out and popped it in the player on the bedside table.

The fear of pressing play warred with the need to escape the silence. The crushing quiet of the room won out and she hesitantly depressed her finger on the play button.

Listening to his songs sent her through the entire gamut of emotions – happiness, sadness, laughter. But in the first nine songs, the most prevailing emotion was hope. Hope in life and in love. She couldn't help but feel inspired by the pure brilliancy of his music.

But as the last song began, she noticed a distinct change of tone. It was instantly sadder, darker.

_Dusty road_

_Hopeless eyes_

_Looking at the blinding lights_

_I saw your ghost_

_Here tonight_

_It lingers on and l feel your light_

_Pulling me back to the place_

_But the thought of staring back at you is more than I can face_

His voice was rough and raw, reflecting the pain he so obviously felt. Pain he apparently felt at seeing her, at facing her after all that had happened. The guilt washed over her, reminding her of her part in causing that anguish.

_It's a long way now_

_From where I used to rest my head_

_It's safe and sound_

_If only I could turn around_

_There's no direction where I stand_

_Just dead end signs and wasted land_

_It's a long way now to you_

He sounded so lost, so broken. The truth of his lyrics caused chills to run down her spine. He was right; they had traveled so far from each other that the distance between them was essentially insurmountable.

_I trusted hope_

_She left me standing by_

_To find what's lost_

_Is it in her eyes?_

_Pulling me back to the place_

He had hoped for so long that they could find a way back to each other. She recognized this song for what it was – his complete abandonment of that hope.

_Just thinking of myself without you is more than I can take_

Just like his haunting lyrics exposed, it was heart wrenching to envision her future without him. The reality of it all was overwhelming; she'd spoken the necessity of their complete and final separation for months, but now that it was a reality she was too numb and empty to even know what she felt.

_Saw your ghost_

_Here tonight_

_It lingers on and I feel your light_

The way he sang of her as an apparition was beyond painful for her to hear. It was like he'd already let go of her, the real her. Now she was just a haunting presence in his life that he couldn't seem to escape. To have him verbalize it in such a way was just... heartbreaking. Especially since, despite all of her bravado, she hadn't even remotely begun to let go of him yet.

_It's a long way now to you_

His sadness and hopelessness permeated the song. There was no doubt in her mind that this song was his way of marking the end of their marriage. His way of expressing and making real the ultimate divide that had occurred between them.

As the final notes of the song faded away and she pushed the stop button on the CD player, the tears stung behind her eyes. She sat for a long while as she processed all she'd heard. And although it took a long time, after the emotions and message of the final song settled in her mind and her heart, she knew that forcing him to take his freedom from her was the first right thing she'd done in a long time.


	25. Chapter Twenty Three

Hello!

Wow, it's so exciting to say that it's finally update time! I really hope that you enjoy the update. I'm just sorry it's taken so long for you to get it! I know, realistically, that many of you have probably moved on from this. I really am sorry for how long it's taken. But I hope that some of you will stick around until this is finished (and I DO promised to finish it!).

I don't have anything else to say other than PLEASE let me know what you think! :)

-Steph

* * *

Chapter 23:

_One Month Later…._

Jude lounged comfortably on Sadie's couch, pulling out a few random objects from between the seat cushions as she settled in. There was a baby bottle and a pacifier and what, Jude noticed with disgust, appeared to be a well used burping cloth. Her sister's house was in complete disarray. That was what having a new baby did to a household, Jude guessed. She watched Sadie rush around in a fury of actions, moving at top speed from one task to another: feeding the baby, burping the baby, putting sweet baby Grace down for a nap and fighting a losing battle with keeping the house clean. There was simply too much laundry. Too many dishes to keep up with. Jude couldn't help but notice how tired and run down her sister looked.

She couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy. She wanted all of that messiness. All of the exhaustion and sleep deprivation. For Chloe, for the chance to see her baby grow up, she would have went through all of it. She knew Tom... No she couldn't think about him. Though it bordered on torture, she'd trained herself in the month he'd been gone not to think about him. It was her only means of keeping herself together, and maintaining any sense of sanity.

Her attention was torn from her unsettling, and unhelpful, train of thoughts as Sadie collapsed on the couch beside her.

"You okay, sis?" Jude asked sympathetically.

"I'm fine. I told Kwest it was okay for him to go back to work, that I could handle all of this myself. And I can. I will." She sounded more like she was trying to convince herself than anyone else.

Jude patted her sister's arm lightly. "You know, you don't have to do it all by yourself. You have a lot of people who will chip in with babysitting or whatever you need. Myself included." It wasn't easy to offer her services, considering her traitorous thoughts about her own desire to be in Sadie's position. She had to think about her sister's welfare and not her own, for once.

One corner of Sadie's mouth raised in a small smile. "Thanks, Jude. I really do appreciate the offer. I just want to try to find my way in this, you know?"

She nodded, understanding completely. She would have felt the same possessiveness towards Chloe and her role as her mother.

Jude's stomach growled, rudely interrupting their conversation. She laughed, rubbing her tummy. "Sorry, I skipped lunch when I was working at the studio. Can I raid the cupboards?"

"Of course. Although I'll warn you that there's not much in there. Probably some saltines and some pickles. Maybe some ice cream."

Jude laughed. "Oddly enough, I've been craving ice cream and pickles like crazy all day. Apparently I have incredible foresight." She unfolded herself from her lazy position on the couch and stood up.

Sadie laughed. "I used to crave that combination ALL the time when I was pregnant. Kwest used to get so grossed out he couldn't even eat in the same room as me. I actually thought he was going to puke once."

Jude smiled at the thought of Kwest's disgust before Sadie's comment stopped her in her tracks. She could feel all the blood drain from her face and she abruptly stopped walking towards the kitchen.

Jude was almost overwhelmed by the cacophony of thoughts resounding in her mind.

It had been a month.

Weird cravings.

No period.

No.

No.

She couldn't be.

She just couldn't be.

"You okay there, Jude?" She heard Sadie's voice behind her. She was glad Sadie couldn't see her face. Her sister would instantly know something was wrong.

She couldn't panic. She couldn't worry. Chances are her suspicion was wrong.

Then the most convincing piece of evidence sent shivers down her spine. She and Tommy hadn't used protection.

* * *

Five days late she paced in front of her bathroom.

She needed to just do it. Just take the test. Then she would know for sure.

The problem was not the result, but the emotional games she'd been playing with herself since she'd realized she might be pregnant.

While the majority of her realized what a catastrophic event this would be within the constraints of her and Tommy's current relationships (or lack of relationship), there was a part of her that actually… rejoiced.

She remembered vividly the conversation she'd had with her doctor after Chloe had died. The doctor had explained, in rather more detail than necessary, that her miscarriage had caused damage and that it would be unlikely that she would ever be able to have another baby. If, by some miracle, she was able to get pregnant again, it would be extremely difficult to carry the baby to full term. Given this rather dire diagnosis, there was a part of her, however small, that thought that perhaps this was a miracle. She deserved a miracle after all this, didn't she?

But no, she couldn't be pregnant. What would that even mean for her and Tommy? She wasn't sure how she felt. Sure, she hadn't filed, or even signed, the divorce papers. That didn't mean she could actually see a future with Tommy. Hell, they weren't even speaking.

She needed to just take the test. End the suspense and the torture.

On impulse, before she could change her mind for the 50th time, she grabbed the pregnancy tests (2 for accuracy) and stormed into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

Five minutes minutes and she would know the truth. 5 minutes, 5 minutes, 5 minutes. That was the mantra she found her self repeating as she peed on that all-important stick.

Twenty minutes later, and she still couldn't bring herself to look at the results of the test. She sat on the floor, leaning her back against the closed bathroom door, rocking slightly.

She knew that the test must be done. The fact that the key to her future was sitting on her bathroom counter was driving her nuts. But she couldn't look. What if it was positive? What if it wasn't positive? She wasn't sure she could deal with either result.

If it was positive, she'd have to tell Tommy. What would he say? What would he do? What would it mean for them?

If it wasn't positive, well…then nothing changed. That seemed equally unsettling.

Powered by some kind of internal strength she wasn't even convinced she possessed, she stood up and propelled herself through the door. Closing her eyes, she reached for one of the sticks and picked it up.

She forced her eyes open slowly. As her eyes adjusted to the light of the bathroom, she couldn't decode what she saw.

A horizontal blue line.

What did that even mean?

Picking up the box, she scanned the instructions quickly, kicking herself for not previously reading how to interpret the results. Finally she reached the paragraph about the results.

A horizontal blue line was…negative.

She was not pregnant.

With a shaky hand, she picked up the second test. This time, her whole soul prayed that the test was wrong.

Another horizontal blue line.

With legs that could barely hold her up, she walked towards the doorway. She walked through the house until tears made it impossible for her to see to move any further. Reaching for the nearest wall, she stumbled blindly towards it. Sliding down towards the ground, she surprised herself with the fervor of her violent sobs.

* * *

She couldn't be sure of how long she sat there. Long after the sun went down. Long after her powerful sobs subsided. Long after her brain finished trying to process all the ramifications of her false alarm.

Out of the haze of her jumbled thoughts, there was only one thing that was clear. She was a complete hypocrite. She was the one who had made it clear that she wanted to be divorced from Tommy. Now, the only think she could think clearly was that she wanted Tommy. She loved Tommy. She'd always loved him. He was the only one who fully understood her, even after 4 years apart. He was the only one who would understand her pain, her sorrow. He was the only one she could even think of sharing this revelation with.

For some sadistic reason, it had taken the possibility of a baby to make her see that she couldn't see a future without Tommy. If she would ever have another baby, the only man that could ever be their father was Tommy. The thoughts of her future, of what a baby would have meant…it had shocked her system into finally realizing the truth. Why couldn't she have realized it sooner?

Looking back on the last few months, Jude thought about the sweet things Tommy had done for her, the way he had been there for her in a nonjudgmental, supportive way. She knew she hadn't deserved that. If she hadn't still been in love with him all along, his behaviour over the last few months would have catapulted her back into it.

The reason she'd kept herself away from Tommy for so long seemed like such a distant excuse now. Had she been hurt by what he said to her that night? Of course. He had blamed her for their daughter's death. But, in this one revelatory moment, she realized that she had long forgiven him for that. She wasn't the only one that had lost Chloe. Why wasn't he allowed to grieve too and to be irrational in that blinding grief? She realized, in what felt like an almost physical moment of pain, that that had not been the overriding reason she'd hid herself from him for so long. She'd been scared of being hurt. Of allowing herself to feel love, to feel happy after Chloe's death. To feel anything that resembled any other emotion but pain and suffering. In that fear, in the pain that she caused herself and Tommy, she had done the greatest disservice she could have to her daughter's precious memory.

This groundbreaking, and very late revelation, had her wondering what she should do. Did she have the right to even think about trying to tell him about this? What if it caused him even more pain than she'd already caused him? Did she have any right to tell him that she was wrong about a lot of things, possibly everything?

No, she didn't. That she knew with heartbreaking clarity. She had no rights at all where Tommy was concerned. But that didn't mean that she could give up. Now, knowing with absolute confidence that Tommy was the one she wanted, she couldn't just give up. He hadn't given up on her. For months, he'd tried to show her what she wasn't ready to see. That no matter what they experienced, they would always be stronger and better together than apart. If only they'd both been able to see that 4 years ago, who knows how different things would have been.

Sighing desolately, she knew there were quite a few obstacles ahead of her, if there was even the smallest chance of winning Tommy back.

First, there was a good chance that Tommy had started to move on in the month that they'd been apart. The very act of his leaving was a good indication that he knew he should move on. Also, what if he couldn't forgive her or didn't want to try again? There was an immense amount of damage and hurt in their past.

No. She couldn't let herself dwell in the pain anymore. She'd wasted enough time with that. She couldn't just give up on them. Even if she was fighting against him this time.

With this desperate thought in her mind, she suddenly catapulted herself off the ground, moving quickly towards her computer. Thanks to the internet age, and the on-the-ball web staff at G-Major, she could figure out where Tommy would be on his promotional tour.

With a few clicks of the mouse, she discovered that Tommy would be doing some TV shows in New York for the next three days.

Without giving herself time to change her mind, she navigated her browser to the Air Canada website and quickly perused the direct flights from Toronto to NYC.

* * *

After booking her flight to NYC for early the next morning, she checked the itinerary of his New York promotional tour. That night he was scheduled to be on the Tonight Show. She glanced at her watch, realizing that the show was only 15 minutes from now. She switched the TV on, turning it to the correct channel. Then she began to pace.

She was nervous, even about seeing him on TV. What was it going to be like in person? She could feel her stomach flipping over at the thought.

Tommy was going to think she had multiple personality disorder the way she had suddenly changed her mind about them. She just hoped she'd get the chance to explain things before he did something drastic, like kick her out of his sight.

The opening credits and monologue passed in a blur as she waited for Tommy's familiar face to fill the screen. Finally the moment came when Jay Leno announced that Tommy would be his next guest. Her heart pounded in her chest as she suddenly saw Tommy on the screen.

It felt like a reunion of sorts. She had blocked him out of her thoughts and her heart for so long that it felt good to look at him and acknowledge the truth of her feelings. She loved this man, more than anyone or anything on earth. She just hoped it wasn't too late.

After her initial moments of adulation at his very presence on the screen, she took in the small details of his appearance. She noticed that he did not look well. He looked tired, and his face was drawn, as if he hadn't been taking care of his health. Worry flashed through her brain instantly.

She watched him as he completed the interview. It was like he wasn't there. He shuffled his feet periodically, one Tommy's typical signs of boredom. He kept glancing up at the ceiling nervously as if he wasn't sure what he was even doing there. Then the odd time he looked at the camera when answering a question, it was obvious, to her at least, that he was lost. There was no spark in his eyes, no sign that he wanted to be there or loved what he was on the show to discuss. His soul, the part of him that had always risen to meet her own, was dying inside of him.

It was all her fault.

She shut the TV off, unable to watch the rest of the show. The pain she felt was almost palpable. It was as if his hurt, the suffering she had inflicted upon him, was also her hurt. Whatever affected him reflected the same emotions back onto her. They'd always been like that, like 2 sides of the same coin, or bearers of the same soul. Even though she'd tried to break that connection with distance and with destructive indignation, the bond was still intact. For now.

She rushed up to their old bedroom, a bedroom that for the last month she had inhabited without realizing the true reason she was drawn to staying there. It was her last connection to their previous life, and it was a room she was now fully determined to bring him back to.

She quickly threw a few things in a suitcase. After packing her clothes, she walked over to her chest of drawers, opening the top drawer and pulling a stack of papers out. The divorce papers. She shoved them in the suitcase too. One way or another, they would deal with those papers once and for all.

She settled herself in their bed, anxious for the night to slip by. If she got what she wanted, this would be the last night she would ever sleep in this bed alone.

* * *

The next day, after an agonizingly long flight, she finally arrived in New York. She'd been a terrible passenger, she knew. She'd barely been able to sit down or relax at all. She had snapped at the flight attendant and she honestly felt bad about it. But she had so much anxiety, she could barely contain it. Now, as she stood in the luxurious lobby of Tommy's hotel, the location of which she'd wrangled out of Kwest, her anxiety was tripled.

Maybe this was a bad idea.

That's the only thought that kept racing through her muddled mind as she paced the lobby.

Was she crazy? Probably. But she had to do this. She recognized this for what it was - her last chance at finding out whether she and Tommy had a shot at being a real couple again. They'd dealt with a lot of obstacles, including many put into motion by herself, but this was their last chance. Their last shot at figuring out if there was really anything worth saving left between them.

She couldn't put it off any longer. She wasn't sure how long she'd spent pacing the lobby, but she was driving herself crazy and few of the hotel workers were looking suspicious.

Finally she walked up to the front desk. "Hi," she said, smiling brightly. "I'm looking for Pete Mitchell's room, please?" Tommy always used the name of Tom Cruise's top gun character as his alias when he stayed in hotels. If she knew Tommy, that would not have changed.

The professional looking blonde woman behind the counter gave her a strange look. For a moment she thought she'd got it wrong, that Tommy had changed his routine. She could feel the panic starting to set in her veins.

Then the strange look turned into a smile. "One moment, Miss," she said, looking at her computer. "Mr. Mitchell is staying in room 704."

A wave of relief settled in her stomach. "Thank you," she managed to spit out before turning towards the elevator. She had to force herself not to run. Now that she was determined to confront Tommy and try to figure things out, she felt that she couldn't get to his room fast enough.

* * *

Mere minutes later she stood outside his hotel room door, poised to knock. Before she could depress her hand against the door, a myriad of doubts passed through her mind but she pushed them all away and knocked forcefully.

The wait for him to answer the door seemed endless. Finally she heard footsteps nearing the door. Her heart felt like it might actually take flight and jump out of her chest any moment. After many moments, in which she was pretty sure she didn't breathe at all, he opened the door.

He looked surprised.

Actually that was an incredible understatement. He looked flummoxed. Like he had no idea why she might be standing

outside his door.

On a whim, and before she could stop herself, she mentally threw away the speech she had practiced in her head on the way to New York.

Instead, with no grace or elegance to speak of, she declared, "I want us to try again."


	26. Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter 24: The Moment of Truth

He knew he couldn't have heard her right.

He stared into her face, a feeling beyond shock spreading through his whole frame. He knew, after all this time, she could not have just said that she wanted them to try again. The words that would have been so welcome only a few short weeks ago, those words could not have been uttered by her at this moment.

He felt the world beginning to spin around him. He turned, walking unsteadily back into the hotel room. He told himself that he must be imagining her presence. She must be an apparition. His brain, the part that still longed for her, must be playing tricks on him.

But when he turned, she was still standing in the doorway, looking unsure of her welcome in his room.

"What did you say?" he asked, his voice quiet and breathless to his own ears.

She seemed even more uncertain as she spoke the words again, her voice quivering audibly. "I want to try again."

He stared at her for another silent minute, on the precipice of doing one of two things; either he would run into her arms or he would run screaming from of the room.

She couldn't do this to him again. He'd just begun to put the pieces of his heart back together.

It didn't matter that he was failing miserably without her.

It didn't matter that he still reached for her in his sleep.

That part of his life was over. He couldn't let her walk back in here and open all the old wounds again, just as he'd begun the long process of patching them up.

"No," he finally muttered softly, looking anywhere but at her.

"What?" she asked, surprise registering in her voice.

He repeated himself more loudly. "No. I won't do it. You don't mean it."

"You don't want to try again?" she asked. He could hear the tears he knew must be pooling behind her eyes. He didn't want to keep hurting her. That's why this had to be over.

He felt her hand touch his shoulder softly, and the subsequent warmth that rushed to the spot she touched. "What do you mean, I don't mean it?"

He really didn't want to get into this. He wanted her to turn around and flee from the room. Before he did something they'd both regret. Before he took her up on her request.

He knew he had to look her in the eyes and convince her to leave, that it was better for both of them. No matter what it cost him.

He clenched his fists and forced himself to look up, not expecting the pain that was evident in her eyes.

He forced himself to spit out the words he didn't want to say. "Jude, you're having a moment of weakness. You're lonely and this would be easy. It would be easy to fall back into our old patterns. But that's not what either one of us needs right now."

He saw the raw pain mix with hurt in her eyes. "Are you honestly telling me that you don't want to try again? That, after hounding me for months to get back together with you, that now you're not interested?"

He sensed the anger and disbelief hiding beneath her words and he understood. When he thought about the last few months and his certainty that they were meant to be, he knew he must sound crazy. He was crazy. His life had been a roller coaster, and simply said, he was ready to get off the ride.

"You and I, we're not good for each other," he said, the memory of what he did to her fresh in his mind. "You know it and I know it. It costs us too much when we're together. When we're good, it's great. But when it's bad, it kills us."

"Oh, Tommy," she said softly, and he couldn't help but meet her eyes. He noticed that something had changed at his words. The anger and disbelief had changed to something completely different. He caught his breath at the confident certainty he saw sparkling in her eyes."You're wrong. You're so dead wrong."

* * *

So, he was going to be stubborn, was he? She mused to herself. That was okay because she was stubborn too. She finally knew what was right, finally saw the truth about them and she wasn't going to give up easily. She'd nearly let him get to her, nearly let him convince her that he really didn't want her anymore. But when he'd mentioned that they weren't good for each other, she recognized immediately that his protective instinct had kicked in and he was using every desperate tactic to convince her to leave. This idea wasn't new; he'd used this reasoning in the past when trying to convince her that they shouldn't date, that she shouldn't seriously consider spending her life with him. It was like she always had to convince him that he deserved to be happy. If that's what she needed to do, she'd do it.

They belonged together. She'd force him to see it somehow.

"You need to go," he said quietly, walking towards the hotel room door.

"I'm not leaving," she stated bluntly.

He spun on his heels and she almost laughed at the surprised look on his face.

"Jude, I'm not going to go over this again. You and me, we're over. You kept telling me and I wouldn't listen. Well, now I'm listening. And you need to listen too. It's over!"

She was finally beginning to realize how he felt all those months when he kept insisting they should get back together and she kept refusing. The irony was not lost on her that their positions had reversed completely.

"What do you want to me to say?" he yelled, surprising her with the force of his voice. "I won't talk about this!"

"Well, that's too bad. I don't believe that you don't want this. Somewhere down deep. Some part of you still loves me. Still wants us to make this work, painful as it might be sometimes. But I can't do it alone. I need you with me."

"Don't push me, Jude," he said, walking around her to sit on the couch. He leaned down, putting his hands into his hands. "Just go," he said, his voice soft.

"No," she said. "I won't." She took small steps, bringing her closer to his position on the couch. When she reached him, she knelt down on the ground in front of him. Gently, she reached forward and touched his arm.

"Leave me alone," he whispered, almost so softly that she didn't hear him.

"Why would you want me to do that?"

"Because I'm a monster!" he roared. "Everything bad you ever said about me is TRUE! What kind of man blames his own wife for their baby dying?"

She flinched at the pure volume of his voice and his mention of Chloe.

He continued, not letting her get a word in. "I'll tell you - a terrible one. A horrible, horrible man. What kind of man goes on drinking binges when he should be at home comforting his wife? A selfish bastard, that's who! I'm not good for you. Don't you understand that! You have to give yourself time to get over this sick obsession that we have with each other. But once you do, you'll be better for it. Then you can find someone else. Settle down. Have the perfect life that you deserve. Far away from me."

Even as the words came out of his mouth, she tried to picture it. She tried to think of what her life might be if she did what he said. If she found another man and gave him everything of herself that she wanted to give Tommy. The family that they could have, all the love she had in her being. She couldn't do it. There was only one person she could ever picture herself with. And it was this man falling apart in front of her eyes.

She squeezed the arm she held in her hand and gently pulled his hands away from his face. She noticed the tears streaming down his face and wondered how he could be so wrong about himself.

"I told you before and I'll say it again. You're wrong. What kind of man remembers the smallest details about our relationship like the restaurant we went to for all our anniversaries? A good, thoughtful man. What kind of man keeps a memory box filled with details of our baby's short life? A loving man, a man who would have been an incredible father to that baby. How can you see yourself with so little clarity?"

"I will never be enough. I will never be good enough for you," he said, his voice raspy from his tears.

She took a big chance, leaning up and kissing his cheek softly. "You are enough for me. You always have been. And it's me who doesn't deserve you. You are the most determined, sweet, sexy man I've ever met, and I don't want anyone else but you. I never have. I never will."

"You will, if you let yourself," he said stiffly, looking away from her.

"You're wrong. Again. It's always been you. Since I was 16 and pining away for you. And it always will be. How can you not see that by now?"

He stared off into the distance for a long time, Jude still kneeling in front of him. She wasn't sure if she should keep pressing the issue or if she should leave him to think.

He answered her question by saying, "Even if I believe what you're saying… how could you ever forgive me for what I said?"

She touched his cheek, pulling his face toward her so that he was looking into her eyes. "I already have. Honestly, I think I forgave you for that a long time ago. I think I clung to it because…" She broke off, feeling the tears so fresh at the surface.

"Why?"

"Because you were right," she said, feeling a lone, silent tear slide down her cheek. She closed her eyes, remembering the past all too well. "It was my fault. I was working like crazy and I wasn't eating all the vegetables that you kept trying to feed me. I didn't think it would affect the baby. I honestly didn't think at all—"

She gasped audibly when she felt his finger pressed to her lips, silencing her. "Shhh…" he said soothingly. "It wasn't your fault."

"Tommy, you don't need to say that." She didn't need him to say anything to protect her feelings. She knew the truth. She hadn't done something right. She was the one who failed Chloe and Tommy. "I didn't give either one of you what you needed."

"Don't say that, don't even think it," he said sharply. "You loved that little girl and would have done anything for her. And as for me, you've been everything to me. Moody and grumpy and taciturn as I sometimes was, you were the only one who knew how to deal with me. You were so gentle and understanding. You were everything either one of us could have ever needed."

She closed her eyes against the thoughts and memories that flooded her brain. Silence pervaded the room as she internalized all the fresh pain.

She heard Tommy's faltering voice break the silence. "I never blamed you. Not really." He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to contradict him. "I know what I said, but I doubt I ever really meant it. I don't even remember saying it. I was in pain, Jude. More pain than I've ever experienced in my life and I lashed out at the only person in the world I actually cared about. I'm self-destructive at the best of times, Jude. Haven't you figured that out yet, Jude? The truth is, I blame myself for what happen. I always have."

"Tommy, that doesn't make sense," she said, confused by his train of thought.

Tommy blew out a long breath before saying, "I'm a failure, Jude. All my life, I've never been able to really be there for anyone else. I'm selfish and impulsive. You," he said, gesturing in her direction, "you, were the only thing I did right in my life. Working with you, falling in love with you, marrying you. It wasn't a surprise that eventually I would let you down. Me, being happy, it wasn't meant to be. I knew that eventually the time would run out. And unfortunately you and our daughter were the ones who paid the price. I should have never gotten involved with you in the first place. I'm like poison to anyone or anything I touch."

He looked exhausted, emotionally and physically. Almost so drained that she wouldn't have been surprised if he found it difficult to even stand on his own two feet.

"Tommy…" Jude began, not certain how to fight a sentiment that was so ingrained in Tommy's mind. He was so wrong about himself. She was the one who'd been selfish and cruel all this time.

"Tommy, I don't know what I can say to make you believe me. All I can say is that I'm the one that doesn't deserve you. I've been terrible to you these last few years. Running away, regardless of what was said or done, is never the answer. I was a grown up. Running away and leaving you without a trace was immature and selfish and cruel, especially considering the loss we had both just suffered." She reached forward, cupping his head in her hands. "You are possibly the most frustrating person I've ever known," she said, chuckling to herself. She thought she even saw a faint hint of a smile touch of his lips for a millisecond before it was gone again. "I know that this whole thing must seem ridiculous. I know that! I mean, less than a month ago I told you that we were done and that you needed to move on, that we both did. But something happened that made me see what a fool I've been. I thought I was pregnant."

At these words Tommy's head shot up, shock reflected in the depths of his eyes.

"I thought I was pregnant from that night we spent together, but I took the test and it turned out I wasn't. I thought I would be relieved, but you know what I felt instead? Disappointment. I wanted to be pregnant with your baby."

"Jude," Tommy said, his voice rough with emotion, a warning for her not to tread any further into this very delicate, emotional territory. But she also noticed his eyes shining with possessiveness, like he'd truly desire nothing more than to see her body growing with his child once again.

She ignored his warning, continuing her recounting of the last few days. "Believe me, I was more surprised than you are. I mean, I always knew that I would care about you. But I thought I'd started to put us behind me. You know what I've learned about myself, Tommy? I'm a liar."

He looked puzzled at her odd confession.

"I lied to myself when I told myself I was over you. I lied to you when I said it was finished between us." She took a deep breath, knowing her next statement was going to be the biggest risk she'd taken in a long while. If it didn't convince him, then she knew nothing would. Her voice shook uncontrollably as she admitted, "I love you Tommy, more than I ever have. And, if you'll have me, I'd really like to try to make our marriage work."

She watched his face change from shock to sadness to hope to dismay to a blank, unreadable expression.

Dredging up the small amount of courage she had left, she pulled the folded up divorce papers out of her back pocket, along with a package of matches. "What do you say, Tommy? Do I walk out of here and file these damn papers or do I burn them once and for all?"

His expression was still unreadable as he reached forward, gently taking the matchbox from her hands. Her heart was racing as he placed them on the table beside him. What did that mean?

He stood up, and without saying a word he walked away, disappearing into the bedroom.

She felt numb as she watched his retreating back. This was the clearest he could be without actually saying, "No, I don't want to be with you anymore." She thought she could fight any obstacle in order to be with him. But she couldn't fight Tommy if he really didn't want her anymore.

She turned on her heel as she felt the tears beginning to stream down her face. She raced out the door, unable to get out of the hotel room soon enough. When she'd entered the room it had seemed spacious, but as she struggled with the door she felt like the walls were caving in around her.

She ran as quickly as possible, stumbling repeatedly before she reached the elevator. She heard the ping of the elevator and was about to dart through the opening doors when a hand grabbed her arm, stopping her movements and forcing her to turn around. Tears blurred her eyes but she could have sworn she saw panic in Tommy's eyes.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" Tommy asked.

"You…" she started, her sobs making it difficult to speak, "You… walked.. away." She pulled herself together as quickly as she could manage, drawing on all the hurt and humiliation she was feeling. "I don't want to stay where I'm not wanted," she said, trying to make her tone as harsh as possible.

Tommy loosened his grip on her arm, only to wrap his arms around her back and pull her closer. He reached one hand up and tenderly wiped her tears away with his thumb. He shot her a half-smile before leaning in close so that their faces were only a couple inches apart.

"Jude, I've wanted you everyday of my goddamned life," he said, his voice low with emotion. Then, before she had a chance to respond to his jaw-dropping statement, he pulled her body firmly towards him, capturing her lips in the most desperately passionate kiss she'd ever experienced.


	27. Chapter Twenty Five

Thanks to all of you who have been reading so faithfully! I must apologize for the lack of updates. I know it's hard to read a story when there are so few updates. Thanks to those of you who have stuck with this story.

I have good news for you – Finally, there's an update. The LAST update. It is with sadness and joy I tell you that this is the last chapter of Without You. It's been such a rollercoaster of emotions writing this story, and I'm quite happy with how it's turned out. I hope you've enjoyed it as much as I've had.

Please, if you have time, let me know what you think!

Thanks again for reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own the song "Fade Into Me" by David Cook. Beautiful song, though! :)

*Steph*

* * *

Chapter 25:

He released her slowly, and only when he felt it was absolutely necessary for them both to catch their breath. He'd waited so long for her. He'd waited so long to kiss her and know that, without a doubt, they both wanted it.

He watched as she took a ragged breath, her eyes glazed over with passion. He loved her and now he didn't have to pretend that there was anything else he wanted but her.

He grabbed her hand, tugging gently as he pulled her back to the hotel room.

"If you weren't trying to tell me no when you left the room, then where did you go?" she asked, her senses somewhat recovered.

He motioned for her to sit down on the couch. She did so, and he barely waited an instant before kneeling in front of her.

"If you weren't so impulsive, you would have stuck around to see this," he joked, reaching into his pocket and pulling out something small and shiny.

He held it behind his back, while Jude tried to sneak a glance at the mystery object.

Normally a man of few words, he couldn't let this occasion pass without saying something. So, he opened his heart and let the words flow. "Jude, the moment you walked into my life all those years ago, I knew that you were something special. Everything about you was such a contrast to everything my life had always been. You were light, I was always pulled to the darkness. You were always so hopeful and loving, while I never believed anything good could really happen to me. Then when we fell in love…

"I did everything I could to stop it. I knew I wasn't any good for you, but I couldn't help loving you. You overpower me, Jude. You always have. Your goodness, your strength, your innate sense of hope, all of these things make me want to be a better man. Everything about you makes me want to be the kind of man who deserves you. So, Jude, even though I'm not that man yet and I might never be, would you do me the honour of becoming my wife… again?" He pulled his arm forward to show her the object he held. It was her wedding ring.

Jude immediately started to giggle loudly. Tommy couldn't tell if this was a good thing or not.

She pushed her hand forward, motioning for him to place the ring on her finger. She couldn't speak, still overcome with laughter. He slid the ring on, not missing the opportunity to put it back where it belonged.

"Mind telling me what is so funny?" he asked, beginning to feel the contagious laughter bubbling up inside him too.

"I….could….kill…you…" she said through her hysterical giggling. He held it in as long as he could, but just watching her he couldn't help the laughter that escaped his lips in small fits.

"That was not really the response I was hoping for when I decided to give you back your wedding ring," he said as seriously as he could manage.

He watched, amused, as she finally began to pull herself together. She wiped the tears of laughter from her eyes. "Do you realize that I looked absolutely everywhere for that damned ring before I left for New York? Once I decided I wanted to stay married to you, I wanted to put it back on. But I couldn't find it anywhere! I swear had panic attacks looking for it. And all along, you had it? When did you take it?"

"Before I left, I went to see Speiderman. I needed him to sign some papers but while I was there I went to the bathroom. When I was passing your room, I saw the wedding ring sitting on your dresser. To be honest, I don't even know why I took it. I guess I just wanted to take something with me that reminded me of you and our life together. I would have taken your engagement ring too, but I couldn't find it," he quipped, smiling wholeheartedly, a way he hadn't smiled in a long time. He wasn't sure he'd felt this relaxed since… he didn't know when.

She laughed, then her face took on a more serious look. "I do have to apologize. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to repeat your question. I was quite rude the last time."

At first Tommy didn't know what she meant. Then he remembered the reason he was on the ground kneeling in front of her. "Of course, my lady," he said, mocking her in the fashion of a courtly knight. He took both of her hands in his.

"Jude Harrison Quincy, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife for the second time?"

She leaned forward slowly, cupping his head with her hands gently. "Yes, Tommy Quincy, I believe I will." Then she kissed him softly, a gentle reminder of the past they'd shared and the future that still existed between them. She pulled her head back, moving fractionally away. "I must correct you about one thing though, baby." She looked deeply into his eyes and he could see all her love reflecting back into his. "I never once stopped being your wife."

With that he stood up swiftly, hauling her over shoulder. Both laughing like children he carried her into the bedroom and towards a reunion of a different sort.

* * *

Rolling over onto her back, she wasn't sure she'd ever felt so at peace, so relaxed. It wasn't because she'd just had the best sex of her life. Although, that certainly did help. It was because her life was finally coming together.

She snuggled up against Tommy, resting her hand on his still racing heart. "Well, Mr. Quincy, how do you feel?"

He pulled her closer, kissing her forehead gently. "I feel like a man who has just got everything he's ever wanted."

"Oh really? That's funny, because I feel the same way."

His laughter rumbled in his chest. "You feel like a man?"

She punched him playfully and feigned her annoyance. "I knew I could trust you to ruin the moment, Quincy." But she couldn't feign the smile that burst from her as he looked down at her. "I really love you, you know."

He kissed the end of her nose. "I love you too. Always have. Always will. Simple as that."

"You know what," she whispered, lifting herself to look into his eyes. "I really believe that it is that simple with you. I'm sorry it took me so long to realize what you've known all along."

He didn't say anything, but she felt his forgiveness and understanding in the soft kisses he placed along her collarbone.

"What do you want to do now?" she asked.

He rolled over so he was straddling her. He leaned in, kissing her neck. "Well, I don't know," he said coyly, but it was clear to her what he wanted to do. Again. And again. She felt the same way. Now that they were back together, she didn't want to waste another moment.

"I don't mean RIGHT now. I just mean, where do you see us going from here?" she said, hoping he couldn't hear the slight trepidation in her voice.

"Hmmm…" He kept up his assault upon her senses by kissing her shoulder and leaving a trail of kisses down her arm. "We're together. Wherever we go from here is up to us. We'll figure it out." He suddenly stopped his lips on the inside of her wrist and sat up quickly.

He slid out of bed, leaving her staring after him in confusion. He quickly put on his boxers before leaving the room.

"Everything okay?" she called after him, the worry starting to build in her.

"There's something we do have do now," he said, his voice trailing off as he left the room. She didn't have any time to ask more questions because he returned, carrying the divorce papers and the matches. He took a seat in front of the fireplace in the bedroom. He held out his hand, beckoning her to join him. "You ready to do this. For good?"

She smiled, not even hesitating before joining him in front of the fireplace. "Let's do it."

He lit the match and held it up against one end of the papers. "Your turn," he said handing her the matchbook.

She lit another match and set it to the other side of the paper. Then they both dropped the papers into the waiting fireplace.

She nestled herself into Tommy's side as they watched the papers burn, morphing into indecipherable ash.

It was done. There was no going back.

And she wouldn't have it any other way.

* * *

The next morning, she awoke sleepy but inspired. She had an idea. A good idea. She just wondered if she could pull it off.

She turned over, coming face to face with Tommy's sleeping form. Sneaking away was going to be the hardest part.

She slid herself to the edge of mattress, trying to untangle her limbs from Tommy's without waking him up. Luckily for her, Tommy was the heaviest sleeper she knew. Just as she was about to slide off the bed, Tommy's arm gripped tighter around her, pulling her back beside him. "Where… you… going?" he asked sleepily.

"I have to pee. Really bad," she whispered, hating already that she was lying to him. "Baby, let me go."

"I don't want to let you go," he murmured, pulling her even tighter.

"Well, you're not going to like the alternative," she joked pulling slightly on his arm. His arm was like a steel rod around her. "Baby, I have to go. You'll never know I'm gone."

Finally, slowly, he released her. She moved quietly, not wanting to come more awake than he was. She dressed quickly, tip-toeing out into the main room. She ripped a page out of her notebook, scribbling a quick note of apology - and a promise that she'd call him ASAP because she had a surprise for him.

As she crept slowly out of the hotel room, she prayed that after years of inactivity that she still had the connections she needed to pull this off.

She pulled out her cell phone, dialling a familiar number. "Hello, Darius? Can I call in a few favours?"

* * *

She sat in the Green Room of the Tonight Show, waiting for the right moment to call Tommy. She knew he'd probably be a bit angry with her disappearing act. She just hoped her "surprise" was worth it.

Her finger hovered over the talk button of her cell phone. She forced herself to push "TALK". He picked up after the first ring.

"Jude? Where the hell are you? Are you ok?" She could hear his anger and worry all mixed together in his voice.

She smiled to herself. "Tommy, I'm fine. Look, I have a surprise for you. Can you do me a favour?"

He sighed loudly. "Anything Jude, you know that. But you know I don't need surprises. I just need you."

"I know, babe. This is a good one, though. I promise."

"Girl, it better be fantastic to drag you out of our bed."

She chuckled softly, glad his sense of humour had returned. "Tommy, can you watch the Tonight Show with Jay Leno tonight?"

"Jude… what does this have to do with my surprise?"

"Trust me, just do it It'll be worth it."

"It better be. I think you already owe me for disappearing like that. You scared me half to death. I thought you'd…" His voice became soft. "I thought you'd changed your mind about everything."

"Never, Tommy!" She yelled, realizing the other people in the Green Room had turned to stare at her. "Baby, just watch. It'll keep you busy until I get back."

"Alright. I love you. Hurry back," he said seductively. She felt her body starting to tingle just from the sound of his voice. It made her want to run out of the studio and back into his arms.

Soon. She'd be back in his arms soon.

"I love you more. See you soon." She smiled, thinking about her conversation with Tommy. When had they become so mushy? She didn't know… but she liked it.

She heard someone call from the doorway, interrupting her train of thought, and she turned to see a production assistant waiting for her.

"Miss Harrison?"

"It's Mrs. Quincy, actually," she corrected.

"Sorry, Mrs. Quincy. I just came to tell you that you're up in five."

Jude smiled at the young assistant. "Thanks, I'll be there."

She stood up, checking herself once in the mirror before she turned towards the door. _Here goes nothing_ she thought to herself.

* * *

Tommy yawned widely as he tried to focus on the television. He could barely keep himself awake. They'd had a busy night, after all.

Jude had been gone almost all day. That is not how he'd envisioned spending their first day as a reunited couple. He couldn't help but feel a little irritated. He'd called her a few times, but it had gone straight to voice mail. Where the hell was she? And what was so important?

He was happy to see the Tonight Show finally come on. He'd promised he would watch it, but after that, he was going to go looking for her. He was starting to really get worried, regardless of what she'd said.

He focused back on the show just to hear Jay say, "And, after a couple years out of the spotlight, I'm pleased to welcome my next guest back to the show. Please help me in welcome singing sensation Jude Harrison."

"What the hell?" Tommy said out loud. He was pretty sure she hadn't mentioned making any press visits while she was here.

He couldn't help but notice how beautiful she looked as she crossed the stage to shake hands with Jay. She was always so amazing to him.

"Well, Jude it's nice to see you again. How have you been?"

"You know what, Jay, these last few years have been pretty crazy. I'm sure there's a lot of stuff swirling about in the media. That's one reason I asked to be on your show today. I wanted to set the record straight about a lot of things so that I could move on."

"Well, I'm sure your fans appreciate that."

Tommy could see Jude take a deep breath before beginning. He saw in her eyes how hard she was trying not to cry. He wanted to reach through the TV and hold her. "As you know, Jay, a couple of years ago my daughter was stillborn. Her name was Chloe. It was, hands down, the most traumatic thing I've ever experienced. You know, I honestly didn't know if I would survive. And I wasn't the only one who was affected by her loss. My family lost her too. I will admit that I didn't know how to cope with it. No one did. How would you know how to cope with it? So, everyone in my family did what they had to survive. For me that meant running. I ran away and lived under a different name for a couple of years, avoiding everything that scared me about my life. I tried to forget about Chloe, about my husband Tommy. About everyone. But it didn't work. I missed them more than I would let myself admit. I was miserable."

She stopped to wipe away a stray tear.

"Jude, we don't have to talk about this, my dear," Jay said, kindly passing her a tissue.

"No, I really do need to. I've held it back long enough. I appreciate your patience with me." He saw her take another deep breath before delving back into her tale of sadness.

"Anyway, I eventually came back and still thought I could live pushing everyone away. But that wasn't living. The one who paid the price the most was my husband Tommy Quincy. I'm sure you all know who he is." She paused as she heard a few cheers from the audience for Tommy.

"He made mistakes in his grief. He'd be the first to admit it. But, the worst mistake we both made was thinking we could survive our grief alone. She was our daughter and we needed to grieve together. It was when we finally allowed ourselves to do that, to really talk about what happened, that's when I really knew that Tommy and I were going to make it." She gave a half-smile, and Tommy couldn't help smiling a bit too.

"We'd suffered the worse thing a married couple can face. And, somehow, we survived. We're changed but we're still here. I still love him more than anything. That's the big reason why I wanted to be here tonight. I've seen a lot of reports in the media about Tommy and I, that we're breaking up, that we're seeing other people. Folks," she said, looking right into the camera, "these reports are just not true. Tommy and Jude Quincy are together, for better or worse. Forever."

"You and Tommy sound like very strong, brave individuals to have survived all of that. I think all the parents out there sympathize with how tough that would have been. Now, I understand there's one more thing you wanted to do?" Jay asked. Tommy could see the tears in his eyes and in the eyes of the audience members. No one was left untouched by their story.

Jude smirked, and Tommy was relieved to see some happiness return to her face. "I have a surprise for Tommy. I really hope he's watching out there. Yesterday I wrote a song for him, a song about surviving everything together and a song about how happy I am that he is still part of my life. So, Tommy," she said, smiling widely, "this is for you, baby."

She walked onto the stage and quietly picked up a guitar. Her voice was strong, but it was also filled with the memories of everything they'd been through. He admired her bravery, exposing herself and her pain on national television. She was doing this, laying herself bare, for him.

_All I feel now,_

_Is the weight of the day. _

_I need you with me,_

_To push it away._

_We disappeared into each other._

_Colors appear and bleed into one._

_Fade into me, fade into you,_

_Two of us melting together until we become something new._

_We can escape,_

_And watch the world chasing to find us._

_Both of us hidden from view,_

_If you, fade into me, fade into me._

_When I'm broken,_

_You're the one thing I need._

_Like an ocean,_

_Feel you crash over me._

_We disappeared into each other._

_Colors appear and bleed into one._

_Not gonna fall in,_

_Drown in the moment with me._

_Sinking till we start to breathe._

_Fade into me, fade into you, _

_Two of us melting together until we become something new._

_We can escape,_

_And watch the world chasing to find us._

_Fade into me, fade into you,_

_Two of us melting together until we become something new._

_We can escape,_

_And watch the world chasing to find us,_

_Both of us hidden from view._

_If you, fade into me._

_Fade into me._

_Fade into me. _

When she was done singing, as the lights were about to go down, she mouthed "I Love You" into the camera. He felt chills run down his body.

By the end of the song, Tommy has stopped wiping the tears off his face. There were just too many of them to bother. She truly was one of a kind and he was lucky to have the rest of his life to spend by her side. She'd given him a beautiful gift in a way only she could do it. A song that expressed perfectly how intertwined their fates were.

Under an hour after the broadcast ended, Tommy heard the hotel door crash open. Before he even had time to stand up, Jude ran in the room and jumped into his arms. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

He settled her on his lap on the couch. He pushed her hair back from her face gently, wiping away what he hoped were tears of joy. "I love you more," he whispered, his own eyes filling with unshed tears.

"Not possible, my friend," she said, smiling.

"You know, you didn't have to do that. Going on TV, opening up like that. I know it couldn't have been easy."

"I know, I just thought that we should clear the air. Let everyone know what we already know. This is for good. There's no maybe or hesitating anymore."

"The song… it was amazing, Jude. It meant a lot. It meant… everything," he said, his voice growing husky with emotion.

"You do know how big of a change this is, right? I mean a few days ago, we were going to get a divorce. I honestly thought we were done for good. That when I saw you we would be nothing more than acquaintances. Now look at us. Miracles are possible aren't they?"

"They certainly are. The fact that we have each other, that we're still together. There's no miracle greater than that."

She settled deeper into the crook of his arm. "Speaking of miracles, do you think, one day that we might… you know… create another miracle?" She spoke quietly, as if she was afraid of her own words.

He ran his hand across her hair soothingly. "I know we will," he said confidently. "Another baby would never replace the one we lost. But it would add to the joy that we've already found. I think Chloe would want that, don't you?"

"I do," she whispered. He could hear the heartache in her voice. Chloe, both the joy of her existence and the sadness of her death, would always be a part of them. They were slowly beginning to find the balance between the two emotions when they thought of her. That was how they'd begun to heal. By giving each other the strength to feel both emotions without completely falling apart.

* * *

The next morning they rose, and without discussing it, they simultaneously packed up their belongings. It was time to go back to Toronto, to begin their life anew.

There was a sense of anticipation in the room as they packed. This wasn't going to be like the last time. This time they were stronger. This time they would learn from the mistakes they'd made. This time they wouldn't let each other, and their love for each other, go.

They walked hand in hand towards the waiting taxi. Judging by the swarms of paparazzi, word had clearly slipped that there was a famous couple staying at the hotel. Unlike all the other times they'd been bombarded, Jude couldn't care less.

Tommy swung his arm around her, leaning close. "Are you happy?" he whispered softly.

"Happier than I could have imagined. You?"

He nodded wordlessly, his expression full of emotion. She'd always known he was a man of few words and now, with everything they wanted in reach, words didn't seem necessary.

As they reached the taxi, he pulled the door open. "Ready to go home?"

"I am home," she declared, smiling and pecking his cheek softly as she slid into the cab. For wherever he was, whatever space they occupied together, that would forever be her home.


End file.
